Taste of Freedom
by Sessils
Summary: A story of a mage named Hawke who is more then she seems- And a story of champion she never thought to be.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 1)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Anders, Varric, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

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><p><em>For as long as she could remember, Cinnamon had consorted with spirits.<em>

_Many would call them demons, and call her a blood mage or an abomination for doing so. They were wrong- And this is not the plain ignorance or willfully turned head that claims so. Among the power hungry demons that roamed the Fade, there are many more benevolent spirits that lingered to, hidden away like the oldest and dustiest books of a library. They, unlike the demons, do not wish to cross the Veil, the only thing that stands between the Fade and the real world, to possess the minds of mortal humans. They are content in the Fade._

_However, there is an expectation to every rule._

_There must be._

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><p>A cloudless night had finally succeed in converting all of the Free Marches into something beautiful. Stars winked and shot across the sky, and for once everything was moderately silent.<p>

Somewhere just out of Kirkwall a small party had set up camp for the night. Now the campsite and the trees around it was lit by the blue tinted magic of Anders as he illustrated to a certain Fereldan apostate how to be a better Spirit Mage.

"You have to feel the magic to be able to heal wound Hawke. Let it come from within, not just be skin deep."

With a tired but determined sigh, the quiet mage brushed brown hair from her face and stared down at the light in her hand, trying to do as the other said. Her magic, unlike Anders, was a brownish colour, tinted with strands of gold and white. It hovered warmly in her hand, and with a sense of calmness Cinnamon pressed it against her bloodied leg. She wasn't entirely sure she'd done it correctly until she removed her hand, and saw nothing but a faint scar. Anders clapped and smiled widely, obviously surprised.

"Whoa, you've got the hang of this fast. It's like your connection to the Fade it stronger then most."

As Cinnamon blushed and cut away the rest of the bloodied bandage Anders studied her, a small smile on his lips. The Fereldan mage, who had never actually been to the Circle, seemed to know a lot more about magic then many Circle Mages, maybe even more then some Senior Enchanters. So while his next statement was a bit sudden, it wasn't entirely unfounded.

"You must have made a few deals with some demons yourself."

Getting a nervous laugh from Cinnamon, Anders began to realise just how much the Fereldan apostate had changed since she first got her. Varric had told the story many times, but only a few of those times were actually accurate. Anders however, and known the girl since her second year in Kirkwall, and could see these changes clearly on her face.

The long, dark scar still painted her left cheek, and she had plenty more around her body. Her blue eyes sparkled with kindness, and her pale skin showed that the mage never got out a lot in Fereldan, and that the Kirkwall sun was proving far to elusive for her. With straight chocolate hair, pale pink lips and freckles, it was a surprise Cinnamon wasn't the most popular noble in Hightown. And Lowtown, for all the times she went down to visit Varric, Merrill and Isabela.

It might have been something to do with the fact Cinnamon was a very withdrawn, quiet and shy woman. Or maybe because she tried to keep everyone at arms length.

However, before he could speak his mind, Varric and Fenris were standing beside Cinnamon with wood in their arms and varying emotions playing on their faces.

"What are you two doing exactly, except for putting on a light show?"

Cinnamon laughed before slowly standing. Without asking she took the wood from the dwarf allowing him to sit down just a little from Anders and pull out a bottle of whiskey and stamina potion. Turning around however, Hawke very nearly crashed into Fenris, who had been waiting for her to move. Blushing a bright red as her hands flew up by instinct and landed against his arms Cinnamon moved aside, letting Fenris bend down and place the wood.

"Lady Spice, if you're not careful, you'll draw more then just Templar attention to yourself."

Cinnamon's reply was to huff at him, though that could have been an attempt to get her brown locks out of her face. Through the corner of his eyes Anders watched Fenris, watched the way he watched Cinnamon through a lowered head. An anger flared up in Anders at the look in his eyes. Finishing up the apostate in question stood and turned to face the dwarf, a lopsided smile painting her face.

"I already have my mother trying to marry me to some noble's son Varric. You reminding me isn't helping my state of mind."

Getting a chuckle from her dwarven friend Cinnamon shook her head, completely missing the look of surprise on both human and elf's faces. Without a sound Cinnamon gathered up her staff and turned to go, meaning to head away from the camp. Fenris's hand on her arm however stopped her, and Cinnamon glanced over at him in surprise.

"Where do you intend to go?"

If it were anyone else, Cinnamon may have just sighed in annoyance at being treated like a child. As it was Fenris, she rested her hand on top of his and smiled kindly, glad that the darkness hid the blush that now coloured her entire face.

"To go find food- No, don't follow me. I promise I won't die, I just... Need sometime alone."

Not waiting for a reply Cinnamon disappeared, her footsteps the only reminder left of her as the darkness eat her up.

* * *

><p>"You disgust me mage."<p>

"Maybe I'll grow on you, if you let me."

Anders reply was sharp and harsh, a bit of blue flaring in his eyes as he spoke. Fenris simply laughed, and grinned back, obviously enjoying this match of insults and attempted reasoning.

"I'd prefer cancer."

Struggling not to chuckle, Varric shook his head and took another swig of his mixture. Shortly after Cinnamon had left to go find food, Anders and Fenris had gone for each other's throats with witty insults and harsh words. Varric couldn't say what had started it, but it may have been something to do with the way Anders watched Cinnamon as she disappeared into the darkness.

Shaking his head, Varric was about to return to his thoughts when a noise caused him to look up. It came from the direction Cinnamon had disappeared into- And although it was soft, it sounded pained. Like someone getting a rather nasty surprise.

"Hey, you two idiots. Did either of you just hear that?"

Snapped out of their states, it was Anders who looked over at Varric in confusion, paused, then opened his mouth to reply.

Whatever he meant to say Varric missed, because a scream cut him off. Female, pained and rather familiar... And very close. Even before it was ended, cut short for someone reason, Fenris was on his feet. He knew that voice.

Varric and Anders followed hot on Fenris's heels as he ran in the direction Cinnamon had taken, greatsword being pulled into his hands even as he moved. Fearing the worst, the three spun around a group of trees and bushes, to come into a long but narrow clearing- And find the worst.

Only a few metres from them stood a mage, a tall female with pure black hair, Tevinter robes and her back to them. Upon hearing the three crash into moonlit clearing she spun around, and they finally found the source of the screaming.

Wrapped in her arms was Cinnamon, her hands bound by magic behind her back and her staff lying a few feet in front of the two. One of the mage's hands held her shoulder, and even from their distance Fenris could see the burn that caused the scream was fresh and painful. The witches other hand held a huge, sharp ritual knife to the apostate's throat, pressed closer still as she spotted them.

"Oh, are these your little friends magelet? The ones here to save you from me?"

Cinnamon did not reply, instead staring at Varric with terrified eyes. He could see they swarmed with unshed tears as the mage swallowed, trying to breath calmly. However when the older female realised her prisoner would not speak she sighed, and fire roared back into her hand to burn the already charred skin on Cinnamon's shoulder.

She couldn't help it- Hawke screamed in pain, the tears that she was barely holding back now flowing down her cheeks as the girl struggled to keep herself standing. The black haired female roared with laughter, and both Fenris and Anders took a step closer only to have the older mage tsk at them.

"Now now, don't ruin my fun. This little wrench ran straight into my trap- And yet, she is more then I expected to find. First I thought I might demand something, but she is more a prize then any coins you charlatans hold."

Digging her sharp fingers nails in caused Cinnamon whimpered, unable to stop herself against the torrent of pain. She could see blue flare up over Anders as he took a small step forwards, hands held out open in front of him.

"Give her back to us! What can you gain from having her- You can not keep her with you without draining your own magic!"

A morbid laugh left them all with goosebumps, and yet Fenris could not keep his markings from glowing a faint blue. He could nearly see Cinnamon shaking, because he knew she would be- He knew that was what she did when she was trying to keep emotions in. It was what she had done when she received the later from her brother, and she had fled the closest person- Him.

Such a kind creature should no have to die today.

"Oh, but you can't tell? Well then, maybe it is best this girl remains with me. She'll be better appreciated within my company, maybe as a slave. Or a prisone-"

"Don't trust her she's a bloodmage- Arh."

Cinnamon's outcry caused the three to hiss and pull out their weapons, suddenly realising the implications of such an accusation. Her words of warning however had been cut off as the older mage, the blood mage, pushed the knife deeper into her skin and blood began to run, staining the top of her white robes.

"Well, aren't you a loyal bitch? Ready to die for your friends, hm?"

The bloodmage turned her gaze towards the three armed men, watching with an amused gaze as their eyes flickered from her to the younger apostate in her arms. Interesting companions they were- A glowing elf, a crossbow wielding dwarf and what looked like another mage, except he too glowed. Anger and fear for their friends just seeped out of them, and as she looked back at the girl she felt her smile growing back. This would be fun.

"Any last words girl, before I slit your throat?"

She could feel the pitiful thing shaking against her, and yet the only thing she could see on her face was tears and a bitten lip. The magelet drew a breath, her eyes never leaving whomever it was she was staring at, and while her voice was soft it rang out through the clearing loudly.

"Whatever becomes of me, I care not. But if you harm my friends, I promise not even death will spare you my revenge."

Silence greeted her words, and for a moment the blood mage was at a lose for words. The pure anger and strength in her quiet words were astonishing, and yet after a few moments the older female found her voice again, laughing as she shook her head. Without another word she changed the gripping on the knife and began to chant the few words that needed to be spoken, ready to do the deed.

In front of her, the young woman let her gaze meet that of the glowing elf's, and a single tear streaked down her chin as she offered him the faintest of smiles.

"Fenris-"

Finishing her chant the blood mage tore the knife against Cinnamon's throat, ripping it open. Blood rolled out from her lips and neck as the young girl fell to her knees, that very precious blood floating up in swirls to be absorbed into the older mage. Without waiting for the girl to be drained she shoved her body sideways, letting it fall on it's side as she stepped over and grinned unwholesomely.

And as demons rose at her command, Cinnamon let her eyes close, her name a cry on her friend's lips as they charged.

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><p>A warm touch on her neck caused Cinnamon to stir, and her eyes flickered open as though sleep had just vanished. Blinking against the bright light, Cinnamon instantly knew she wasn't where she had been, and yet, everything looked so familiar...<p>

Her hands snaked out, and very gently Cinnamon pulled herself up, glancing around herself as she did. She wasn't in the Free Marches, or anywhere near Thedas for that matter. She was in an empty plain, the grass that brushed against her leaving no feeling. Observing her surroundings slowly her eyes ultimately gravitated back to the two figures in front of her.

One was short, maybe even shorter then Cinnamon, with elvish features and a grin on it's face. The other was much taller and yet more held a softer form, one that blurred at the edges. Hawke gently tilted her head, her brain struggling just a little.

"I am in the Fade, aren't I?"

Getting a nod from the taller of the two and a giggle from the other Cinnamon continued, her head tilting now the other way.

"You are a Spirit of Joy-" She said, pointing to the shorter one, then moving to the other. "-And you are a Spirit of... Compassion?"

As if it had been holding itself back, the Spirit of Joy darted forwards. Cinnamon jumped, but relaxed quickly as it's arms looped around her and bliss ran through her veins. Giggling Cinnamon returned the hug before looking up, her eyes focusing on that of Compassion. However before she could speak the spirit raised a hand, a smile playing on it's lips.

_"We can not talk long- We were only just able to pull you from your path to death. Listen to me Cannella."_

Cinnamon winced at the use of her real name, but as the warmth of Joy left Compassion replaced it, a hand tilting her head up. Her gaze met with the Spirit's, and Cinnamon felt four years old again, meeting a Spirit for the first time.

i"We care for you. We have always cared for you. And we know death is not your destiny today. You are Cannella, even if you choose not to accept the name- And you don't break your promises."/i

Without her consent, tears began to streak Cinnamon's face, and the girl bent her head, ignoring the hand on her chin as a sob left her lips.

"Please, stop calling me that- And please, I don't... I don't know how to get home."

Her world began to brighten slowly, and Hawke glanced up towards the two spirits. They both smiled at her sadly, even as Compassion raised her hand towards her. Cinnamon simply watched it, no longer sure about... anything.

_" Trust us. We will show you the way."_

A few more moments past, where Cinnamon's vision became brighter still. Finally she slid her hands into Compassion's, only to have Joy slid it's over top. Blinking away tears Hawke smiled faintly, trying to see them through the light.

_"We will see you again Cannella. Thedas has not the only souls that need you."_

Before Cinnamon could ask what she meant the world went bright white, and Hawke lost her focus, slipping away softly into lightness.

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><p>Fenris felt the blade of the blood mage's staff bite his skin and he grunted, somehow dislodging it as he rolled away. He had never seen a blood mage this powerful, or this crazed. The battle was not going well.<p>

Even without looking, Fenris knew Anders and Varric were having trouble- Last he looked they stood back to back, one fighting while the other took a potion of health or stamina then changing. They could not keep this up much longer.

Neither could Fenris as he was once more forced to dive away, landing on his wounded side on the already bloodied ground. Wincing in pain Fenris spun around, greatsword whipping around with him. However, he realised too late that the mage was not in front of him.

Metal cut through his back and Fenris roared in pain, falling to the ground once more as blood began to run from the cut on his back. However as the elf began to roll back over, meaning to get on his back and flipping himself up, a foot on his wounded side caused him to stop, hissing in pain. The witch crackled, raising her staff high above her head, the blade part pointed his throat.

"Be prepared to met your friend again elf."

Fenris twisted his head away the witch and the staff that came down even as everything began to slow down. On their own accord his eyes fell onto the friend in mention, onto her still, lifeless form. She lay just behind the witch, lying on her side and yet, facing him. As his death neared, the staff falling down towards his skin, Fenris willed Cinnamon to wake up. He wished, just for one more time, that she would quietly shake her head at him whenever he insult mages, or smile at Varric with her shoulders shaking. He... Needed Hawke to wake up. Right now.

It was at that exact moment that Cinnamon's eyes flashed open, and her hand shot out to grasp the bloodmage's leg.

The world rushed back into motion as the blood mage cried out in shock, her other foot moving sideways and shifting her aim. Fenris felt a woosh of air slid over his skin as the staff landing a few inches in front of his neck, having narrowly missed him. However, he did not move, as the blood mage looked down in terror at Cinnamon.

For her part Hawke simply looked up, her eyes sparkling with anger and her grin fueled by the same emotion.

"I, never, break my promises."

With a cry of rage so much stronger then anything Fenris had ever heard from her, the mage sent one last lightening spell straight through the blood mage. Fueled by her emotions, strengthened by the power given to her from the spirits, Cinnamon's magic began to fry the older mage the longer she forced it through her.

The anguished cries of their summoner caused the demons that surrounded Varric and Anders to paused, giving the two enough time to rip into their opponents. It was then that Cinnamon finally let go, and both she and Fenris watched as the witch fell sideways, dead before she even hit the ground.

Without another thought for himself or anyone else Fenris scrambled to his feet, only to fall down to his knees beside Hawke. Her throat was no longer ripped open- Instead it seemed to have been pulled back together, now forming a huge and horrid scar across her smooth neck. Fearing the worst, that Cinnamon would die again after all this, Fenris could only watched in shock as Hawke smiled faintly and touched his chin tenderly. In some detatched part of his brain, Fenris felt blood from her fingers mark his cheek, though whose blood the elf was unsure. She shook from head to toe and her eyes fluttered weakly, and yet she took the time to comfort him

"Fenris..."

Her hand fell away, leaving streaks of red on his skin, but Fenris grasped her cold fingers tightly, looking into her eyes even as they began to close again. He couldn't lose her again- Not again. She was the best friend, the only friend, he had ever had. And he couldn't deny wanting to know her better, in other ways.

"Cinnamon, no, please..."

"I made... A promise didn't I?"

Blinking in shock, Fenris watched as her eyes slid closed, feeling the hand that lay in his go limp. Unable to stop himself he lowered his head, pressing his ear to her chest. There, very faintly, he could hear her heartbeat, though it beat frightening slow.

It was all the elf needed as he hoisted Cinnamon or whatever her real name was into his arms, turning around and strolling towards Anders and Varric. The two were breathing hard, both downing potions of health and stamina/lyrium as fast as they could. Upon seeing Fenris and still Cinnamon in his arms, they too feared the worst. And yet, Fenris had very little energy to tell them otherwise.

"She lives. Barely. We need to get her to Kirkwall, and fast."

Getting a nod as a reply Fenris let Anders led the way, hoping against everything that Cinnamon would stay alive. She had already denied death to save him- Now he would see if she could do it for herself. And he would see if she kept all her promises.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 2)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Anders, Varric, Leandra, Merrill, Aveline, Isabela, Bodahn, Gamlen, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

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><p>Sunlight crawled quietly through the high windows of Hawke's mansion, and yet the home had never been more quiet itself. No one moved among the many rooms or even the courtyard of the estate. Silence echoed around the building- And yet, regardless of the feeling of absence, the mansion had never seen so many guests. None of them wishes to move or disturb the peace however, in case it stole the most precious thing from them<p>

They were all for a single person, for an unnaturally pale girl lay in the middle of double bed, her body covered by the white sheets. Her chest rose and fell, and yet her eyes would not open. They had not for many days now, not since the fight outside Kirkwall. Some feared they would never open again.

There was only one person in that room beside the girl. He sat in the corner by a desk, his lanky back resting against the cool stone and his arms bent around his marked knees. He wore more causal clothes, his armour removed and material washed of blood stains- Now all he wore was a baggy white shirt and black pants. The elf never took his emerald eyes of the sleeping form of Cinnamon, and yet after all these hours of wishing and praying, she had yet to wake up. There was not much more Fenris could take.

He had carried her back, through a shortcut into Kirkwall's Darktown and then up, up so many stairs Fenris through it impossible to keep going. When they finally came out in Hightown, so close to the Chantry, Anders had led the way to Hawke's mansion, Varric and Fenris following. The elf had clutched the girl against him, refusing to let her go until they were in her room. Varric had left, meaning to inform all of Cinnamon's friends of her state, and he left Fenris with Anders, Leandra and Bodahn, all of which stood and stared at the young mage and her hideous scar.

Anders had tried and tried, but even with all the magic in Thedas he could not have woken Cinnamon up from her coma-like state. One by one her friends had flooded in, and even now Fenris knew they all waited outside, somewhere in her house.

What was this woman to him? A friend, or something more? He had known Cinnamon for four years now, give or take a few months, and yet despite the fact she was a mage he felt like he could relax around her. Like he could trust her. He had refused to leave when everyone else did, standing watch over the apostate, scared that he might miss something important. She had not moved for a few days now, and he knew many feared she never would again.

The thought was more then he could take.

Fenris brought himself to his feet and turned, no longer able to remain in this room. He had to leave, to get out. When she woke up someone would tell him, but until then Fenris knew he could not remain in this room. He did not deserve to be near her, after he failed her.

"Fenris..."

* * *

><p>Warmth. Cinnamon felt it seep into her skin, felt it as she began to stir. Like someone who had been sleeping for a very long time, Cinnamon wanted to stretch- But as she moved her body, she realised something was different.<p>

For one, she was no longer bleeding out. That was generally a good state of being for her, and she felt herself nod on the inside in disconnected agreement. And two... There was something she had to remember. A name, or a warning. A faded dream, one she had had before. A frown creeped onto her face, and Cinnamon couldn't stand the silence any longer. She had to work out what was going on.

Soft sheets brushed against her bare skin, and it took the girl a few moments to realise she only wore her small clothes. Waking up a little more Cinnamon blinked, opening her eyes slowly in an attempt to stop her world spinning. Instantly, the apostate realised where she was. Home. In her own bed. Not resting on bloodied grass, not amidst a battle or even the fade. Home. She was home. There was footsteps, and yet they seemed to be leaving.

Through the blur of her memory images floated by, one in particular stayed with her. An elf, holding her in his arms, and the misery of failure painting his face.

"Fenris..."

It was then Cinnamon realised the footsteps had stopped, and a sudden urge of importance pushed the young woman to pull herself up. Leaning back on weak arms Cinnamon let her blue eyed gaze wander, before resting on a certain shocked elf, one that stared back at her. Pulling the white sheets around her Cinnamon sat up a light more, blinking against the dizzy feeling.

"She meant to... Kill me. So why am I..."

Not even sure about her own words Cinnamon bent her head, her brown hair falling over her face as Hawke let her shoulders sag. Silence began to creep back, only to be broken by footsteps, hurried and coming closer. Before Cinnamon could look up arms enveloped her, and the smell of leather and wine smothered her. For a few moments Hawke couldn't move, frozen as Fenris buried his head in her shoulder and just held her. He spoke before she could, not moving an inch as he did.

"For a moment there I thought you were..."

He didn't finish, but he didn't need to- Cinnamon understood. Very gently she unhooked her arm from it's hiding place against her sheet-covered skin, and touched the elf's white head.

"I never break my promises."

It was, however, at that point that the door burst open, and Fenris pulled away from Cinnamon just as Anders, Varric and co entered the doorway, shocked at seeing both Cinnamon awake, sitting up, and talking with Fenris.

Anders rushed forwards, the blue light of his magic flaring up in dirty hands. Following after was Varric then her mother, then Merrill, Aveline, and all the rest. Very quickly her room was fill of her friends, all worrying, and yet all extremely happy.

After the initial rush had calmed down, and Cinnamon had been thoroughly told off for scaring everyone, the mage just chuckling and promising to try not to die in the future, people began to leave. Aveline disappeared with a promise to return, followed shortly by Isabela and Merrill. Bodahn left to tend to the house, and after making sure her only child still left around was fine, Leandra went too, explaining she had to go see Gamlen.

Soon, only those who had been there when it happened remained- Varric, Fenris and Anders. Fenris stood to the left of her, watching Hawke like a... Hawk. Varric sat at the foot of her bed, a pipe in his hand and his gaze resting on Anders, who stood to Cinnamon's right. He was checking her condition for the last time, and from the look on his face...

"Well, though I can't explain it, you are fully healed. I would suggest you remain in your bed for a few days however- Whatever fixed you didn't return all your life blood to you, and you'll be... Weak for a few days still. But..."

Anders paused, extinguishing the light and looking away. Only when Cinnamon reached out, her fingers finding the edges of his robes, did the ex-Warden look back down at her.

"But your scar will never heal, never fade. I'm sorry."

Without another word Anders stood and began to leave, glancing back at a frozen Cinnamon with a sorrowful gilt in his eyes.

"I'll come back in a few days to check up on you."

Then he disappeared, the door clicking shut behind him, and Cinnamon raised her hand to touch the scar absentmindly as she watched the shut door. With a small sigh Cinnamon shook her head and glanced at first Varric then Fenris, seeing only caution and concern on their faces. It was Varric who spoke first, watching the mage as she curled her legs up and leant her chin on them.

"Don't worry Hawke- You're still sure to turn heads as you walk through Hightown." Varric got his rewards for that remark- A chuckle and a smile that painted Cinnamon's concerning pale face.

"But with any luck, it'll halt my mother in trying to marry me off. Not sure who would want to marry an illegal mage anyway." Regardless of her words, of how they could be harmful to herself, Hawke still smiled and shook her head. Looking at both of her companions she made a small motion with her hand, flapping at the door.

"If you'd rather be in your places then go- Don't worry Varric, I'm not going anywhere fast. I should probably try and sleep."

It took a little more persuading, but Varric eventually agreed to leave her alone after promising to visit her again the next day. As the door closed behind him Cinnamon turned to Fenris, only to lose her voice at the way the elf was staring at her. It was a mixture between worry, kindness, protectiveness and... Fear. Pulling her eyes away Cinnamon looked right ahead, unable to meet his eyes anymore. Because she knew what he was thinking.

"Do not... Blame yourself Fenris. And if you need space... Go. Spirit will watch over me, won't you boy?"

As if knowing he was going to be mentioned, the white Mabari wandered into the room and leapt up onto the bed. Giving a muffled woof the huge dog curled up beside the mage, on the opposite side of the elf. Smiling faintly Cinnamon scratched his head, feeling the familiar bald spot right below his ear. However any communication between mistress and dog was lost as Cinnamon was... Distracted.

The sudden warm presence right beside her would have caused the apostate to jump, had she been not so scared to scare away the elf. A lyrium stained hand touched her right cheek, and without any effort pulled her face toward it's owner, who sat only inches away from her.

Breathing calmly Cinnamon paused, trying to work out what exactly had occurred to make Fenris to react this way- But then the moment of thinking was gone, as the elf broke the silence with four words.

"Promise me something Hawke."

"Anything."

Her reply was automatic and unintentional, and instantly Cinnamon wished she could take it back. Because the last time she had made that said that and made a promise on those conditions... Someone had died. All because she promised not to help, not to intervene. She could not promise Fenris anything, because somethings... Somethings could not be held.

"Don't ever die again."

Meeting his eyes, Cinnamon couldn't help but smile faintly. Gently she reached up, returning the touch he had on her face.

"That is not something I can promise to you Fenris. Not as a mage, not as a Hawke, not as your... friend. One day I will die, and stay dead. But... I promise I'll try my best not to die soon, just for you."

Fenris pulled back so fast that Cinnamon flinched, the hand on Spirit tightening just slightly in fear. She had not known the elf for very long- only four years now- but she knew he did not show emotions well, or even accept them. She also knew he disliked mages. So why... Why did he remain near her? And why did he appear to care?

Cinnamon found her head tilting once more, watching as the elf walked away from the bedside and to the foot of it inside, stopping to stare back at her in... Anger. But not anger pointed at her, but himself.

"Hawke... You make it very hard to hate you."

Much to his surprise, and hers, Cinnamon laughed- Softly, humourlessly, but still kindly.

"Who is it you are trying to hate Fenris? Me, or what I am?"

Cinnamon caught the look in his eyes right before the elf turned, his longs legs taking him from the room and out. And as the door clicked shut behind him, Cinnamon herself tried to find the right answer for him.

* * *

><p><strong>A few days later<strong>

"And then the pirate turned to me, and gets this Varric, and promptly said 'because they arrrr.'"

Isabela burst into laughter, followed shortly by Varric. Both fell back onto Hawke's bed, trying their hardest not to fall off it in their merriment. Merrill, who was curled in the crook of Cinnamon's arm giggled understanding the joke mainly because it wasn't one of Isabela's more... Mature ones. For her part, Hawke chuckled and shook her head, causing bits of brown hair to come loose from her ponytail and fall in front of her face.

However Merrill quickly replaced them, the young Dalish simply happy to be near her only friend. After what had been inflicted on Cinnamon, Merrill had been afraid that she would hate all blood mages- But as the apostate had put it 'it's the person that makes the magic, not the magic that makes the person.' For that, Merrill was ever grateful.

"I swear Rivaini, you're attempts at 'pure' jokes are worse then your attempts to try not seduce the Chanter whenever we pass the Chantry."

The two collapsed into giggles, and Cinnamon simply sighed, rolling her eyes.

"You two are insane. Why you stick around with me is beyond me."

Varric sat up, wiping moist from his eyes, patting Isabela on the head as she laughed herself to tears beside him over her own joke.

"Because you give us good stories Lady Spice. And I hope you know, I am going to change the story behind the scar so much."

Cinnamon flapped her hand at him, accepting the fact what really happened would probably never be heard. It didn't bother her really- In fact, it would be better this way. At least no one would ask her how she lived, and if she could teach them the trick.

"You are so strong Cinny. I wish I was like you. I'm sure you'll be up and out of Kirkwall again soon."

Merrill spoke quietly, and Cinnamon looked at her in surprise. It was not the first time someone had told her they wished to be her- But if Merrill wanted to be her, even after everything that had happened to her, then... She didn't know her.

"I don't know kitten- I'm glad I'm not Hawke. It's more fun being around her. Plus then all my dreams would be for nothing- I assume it would be hard to screw yourse-"

"Rivaini! Not in front of the children, please."

The bright blush on the apostate mage's cheeks caused the two rogues to crack up into the laughter, and the mage quickly pushed them off her bed, trying her hardest to hide her embarrassment. It was then Varric declared he, and Isabela, had to leave now for the Hanged Man. 'It's story evening' was all Varric said, winking at Cinnamon. As Merrill was towed with them, explaining that if she didn't she would get lost, Cinnamon waved them goodbye from her bed. She wished she could leave with them but... Anders had come by early that day, and told her by tomorrow she should be able to move without fear of fainting. Or tripping over her own feet.

But now that her friends had left, the loneliness crept up on Cinnamon, and no matter what she did the mage could not shake the memories that followed after the silence.

That was it. It was more then she could take. Pulling herself out of bed, Cinnamon let her feet hit the ground and stood up fast.

The idea was not a good one- For the mage wobbled on her feet, stumbling slightly and causing Spirit to whine in fear for his mistress. After the world stopped spinning and Cinnamon stopped stumbling she smiled, patted Spirit on the head, and went to find a coat. It would not be suitable to go outside in the cold wearing a white gown, the under-gown her mother insisted she always wore beneath her clothes.

Opening her dresser, Cinnamon grabbed the only remotely warm coat she owned- A completely black, reaching-down-to-knees coat with white fur along the top. Smiling faintly Cinnamon pulled it on, and slid her hands deep into the warm pockets. Her fingers brushed against something soft however, and Hawke grasped whatever it was tight, pulling it out slowly.

Red. A red scarf, small but... Beautiful. With a faint smile, Cinnamon wrapped it around her throat, letting the extra fall down the front of her coat. It covered her scar, and made the truth more... Bearable.

Boots pulled on Cinnamon turned, about to grab her staff. However, instead she found her hands clasping a shorter walking stick- Inscribed with runes, the stick held enough spirit magic to serve as a staff and yet, as it was handmade for her by her father, Cinnamon had never used it. But with the end of her real staff being pointy, and Hawke actually requiring some help to walk... Ordering Spirit to stay Cinnamon turned and left, her footsteps making little noise on the stone ground.

The evening was as beautiful as the day before had been, and as Cinnamon shut her door behind her, she was grateful for the coat. Lucky for her she'd avoided every other inhabitance in the house, and now she was free. To do what exactly what however, was beyond the young noble apostate, even as she took off at random, heading for no where in particular.

In the end, after half a dozen left turns and the occasional right, Cinnamon ended up in front of the Chantry board, right below the stairs. Her head titled up, the wind played with the twenty seven year old's hair, flicking it around her face. She must have been a sight, because even in the limited light of the darkening evening, people were whispering as they past her.

Chuckling Cinnamon refused to look around, knowing what they were seeing. A young lady, leaning to the left on a odd walking stick, her brown hair being flung sideways. The bottom of her black coat too became the play thing of the wind, and the scarf around her neck contrasted the colourlessness of her appearance. She stood just in the light of the eternal flame, looking up at it, unmoving. To them, she probably seemed peaceful. If that was so, then she was glad that was what they saw, because nothing was further from the truth.

In her head and her heart turmoil was running free, and it eventually forced the mage to find a place to sit. She found it right in front of the board, on the tiny wall around it. There she collapsed, leaning her face into her hands and letting the tears fall, hidden. Why wasn't nothing simple? She could have asked herself why was nothing as simply as before, but for her... Life had never been simple. Maybe it would have been better if she hadn't been born a mage. Or born at all.

"Hawke?"

Her head snapped up, and Hawke spotted the one person she did not expected to see- Fenris, a bottle of wine in his hands, walking slowly towards her. She could see he was meaning to head towards Lowtown from the bottle in his hands, and yet she had stopped him with her mere presence. Hawke knew she'd probably ruined the evening for him, and somehow that fact only made the tears that streaked her cheeks fall faster. Turning her face from him she tried to hid them, and yet she knew Fenris saw the droplets. As he got closer she felt her face go red, aware of how pathetic she must look.

"Cinnamon?"

His voice was right beside her now, and Cinnamon felt his presence even as he stood awkwardly in front of her. Before she could stop herself her head shook side to side and tears fell more violent, a sob falling with them from her pale pink lips.

"That's not my name. That... Is the name forced on me."

Her hands pressed against the stone of the wall she sat on, her fingers digging in so tight she caused herself pain, the mage did not raise her head as the tears began to fall off her pale chin, hitting the ground by her feet. Realising she was not alright Fenris lowered himself to his knees, staring at her shaking face with sadness on his. The scarf around her throat made him both sorrowful and worried- Was she ashamed of her scars? Did she think herself less beautiful for it? Aware he should say something Fenris reached a gauntlet-encased hand out, placing it on Hawke's knee.

"What... What is your real name Hawke?"

Another sob left the magelet's lips, and Fenris felt something he hadn't felt beofre- Anger for someone. Not at someone, but for them, for the pain they suffered alone. Hawke kept her head down, not meeting his strong gaze as she struggled to breath past the tears.

"Cannella. My name is Cannella. My father... Changed it, when I was four years old. They never called me by my real name, and soon they forgot. Only father remembered, and he died- He made mother forget. He forced my mother to forget my name."

It was then she lifted her head, puffy eyes meeting his as she gently wiped her face of tears. Fenris couldn't help himself- Careful not to scratch her he brushed away the ones she missed, smiling gently as she chuckled at his touch.

"Look at me, crying like a child in front of the Chantry. I hope the Maker has a sense of humour for us mages."

Fenris frowned, and without another thought put the bottle on the ground and grasp the noble apostate's face in both hands, forcing her to look at him. Her face burned bright red beneath his hands and yet Fenris didn't remove them, looking into her still wet eyes.

"No, not for you mages. For you, Cannella."

Cinnamon blinked at Fenris in surprise, before her face fell into such a look that it caused Fenris's heart to flip. Never had he seen her look so happy, so content before... And something warned him he might never again. A yearning in his heart made the elf reach out and grasp her hand, leading the mage back to her home slowly.

And when they got there he hugged her swiftly, before striding towards Lowtown, the Hanged Man and many mugs of alcohol fixed firmly in his mind.

He did not see Cannella as she smiled faintly, holding a hand over her heart before turning slowly, and disappearing inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 3)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Anders, Varric, Ella, Ser Alrik, Templar #1, Templar #2, etc... Oh, and Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

Oh yeah. This is the armour Cinnamon is wearing, because I am not describing it in writing D: - The Fugitive's Mantle

* * *

><p>Regardless of what Merrill said, it was actually a lot longer before Cinnamon got out of Kirkwall and went anywhere pleasant. Things came up that distracted the noble apostate- Dealings about the Bone Pit for one. Another involved trekking into the Deep Roads to find fools, ones that had attempted to follow in her footsteps. She could only save two of the three brothers, and their faces had haunted Cinnamon for many nights.<p>

However now... A feeling rose on the back of her neck as she walked through Darktown, uncertain about the true intentions of the mage who had called her down her. His explaination at the Hanged Man the other night had been very vague. Now the magelet regretted her instant reaction to Ander's request, even though he promised her no harm would come of it.

"Lady Spice, are you sure about this?"

Cursing at herself for being unable to hid the emotions inside Cinnamon glanced back even as they rounded the last corner, the clinic insight.

"The real answer? No, I am... I am not sure."

"Then why help the abomination? Simply because he is a mage doesn't mean you are compelled to help."

It was Fenris that spoke up, even if Varric nodded in agreement. The dwarf considered Anders a friend but some of the things he requested of Cinnamon made him wonder. As he and the elf watched Cinnamon pause they both began to realise that she too was having doubts.

"Because he's my friend, and he needs someone to stop him getting himself killed or... Worse."

A flash of fear moved across the apostate's face, but not even she knew who it was for. Turning in a flurry of gold, black and red, all that of which composed of her new robes, Cinnamon disappeared up the stairs and into the clinic, leaving Fenris and Varric to wait at her silent command.

It only took a few minutes before Cinnamon reappeared, walking calmly out of the clinic. Varric smiled as she walked past, but Fenris put his arm out, stopping the apostate in her tracks. He spotted the signs- The colour of her skin, paler then normal, and the way her hands shook even as she hid them within each other. Something wasn't right.

"Hawke, why are you so pale?"

"It's fine Fenris-"

"No, it's not. Tell me Hawke."

Anders slowly approached the three, for Varric stood beside Fenris with his eyes trained on the noble woman, and the ex-warden felt his stomach drop. She had brought the elf along with her. Maybe he should have informed her of his plan earlier, so she could have picked more wisely. Because now that Fenris knew, even if she wanted him to leave he wouldn't. He had become protective of the apostate ever since she nearly... died.

"I asked her to come with me to the Gallows, through a secret passage, to find a Ser Otto Alrik who intends to turn every mage in Kirkwall tranquil."

Two heads snapped around to meet his gaze and yet neither was Cinnamon's, for the girl looked straight ahead, chin tilted up. She was terrified, but that silent determination that she held in her heart kept her from voicing it. It was something Anders found himself drawn to. His mind however, could not focus on that fact, as Fenris growled in anger and Varric just looked aghast.

"Blondie, if you haven't realised, Lady Spice is a mage. And a woman. And if this templars catch her, she'll be made tranquil too."

Wincing, Anders felt himself nod, acknowledging Varric's point. The rumours of Templars, especially Ser Alrik, using mage girls for their own pleasures was a common one, and yet only a few nights ago had Anders let them know that they were true. It was then he had asked Hawke to met him, and yet now...

"Varric, don't worry. Someone has to make sure Anders isn't killed."

"Why bother? Wouldn't it be better?"

In contrast to Cinnamon's own confirming and soft words, her attempt at humour, Fenris's were harsh, cover with anger and hate for the abomination. In return, the 'abomination' felt rage build up, turning towards the elf even as blue cracks began to appear around him.

"Maybe that is what you wish, but at least I'm trying to do something worthwhile with my life as opposed to always running, like a dog."

"Enough! Please!"

Anders had not seen Cinnamon move but suddenly she was there, standing between him and Fenris, her hands resting on either man's chest. Her gaze flickered between the two, the sadness and quiet worry plain in her eyes as she kept them apart.

"This is my decision to make, no matter how badly the concept alone shakes me. If you can't... Accept it, then I won't stop you not joining me. You included Varric."

Though her words would seem harsh coming from a different mouth, from Cinnamon, spoken in her quietly determine and yet soft voice, it just soothed the situation. Her blue eyed gaze flickered to the dwarf before back to the conflicted pair even as she slowly pulled herself in and her hands away.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'd like this to be done before the sun has fallen, and I'm forced into an enclosed passage at night."

Very swiftly the mage turned, feet carrying her away from her companions and towards the passage Anders had told her about. She did not look back. For a moment no one moved; And then with a small chuckle Varric turned, following after Cinnamon, muttering something about at least getting good stories out of it. Anders tore his gaze from Fenris and gave chase, wishing for the elf to just leave. But he did not- Instead he strolled past Anders, catching up to Cinnamon only to fall into step beside her. Anders watched as he said something to her and made her nod, cast a glance at the elf and awarding him a smile.

Whatever happened, Anders had a deep down hope that it would drive a stake between those two that would stay.

* * *

><p>Her staff driven through the last Templar Cinnamon spun around, skin covered with blood and none of it hers, to find her eyes settling on the one reason she had gone into a extremely rare bloodlust mode. A young Circle mage girl, the one that had been threatened with tranquility and... Worse, by Ser Alrik. Forgetting her staff Cinnamon took a step towards the crying, cowering girl, falling to one knee as her arms opened. In a blur of black hair and purple robes the girl was in her arms, burying her head into Cinnamon's shoulder, and the older mage just brushed her hair and made hushing noises, letting the girl weep freely.<p>

Ella was her name, or so Cinnamon overheard, and it had been her that would have been Ser Otto Alrik's newest tranquil 'pet', all because she wished to see her mother. That had sparked anger deep within the normally peaceful mage, and Cinnamon had let all hell loose on the Templars. Anders, or more correctly Justice, had too- But now, at the sound of it's voice behind her, Cinnamon was beginning to wonder if the trade of her friend for the spirit had been worth it.

"They will die! I will have every last Templar for these abuses!"

"Anders, they are all dead. Breathe, let it go."

Cinnamon spoke softly, turning a little to face Justice even as the mage bore down on her and Ella. She however, could not look directly at the spirit- For most mages, the light of Fade was dim, unused. When Anders was in control Cinnamon could not look at him for too long, for it was like someone had lit a candle near her face. But when Justice came out... The sun had been forced into the thin man's body, and Hawke feared the consequences is she stared too long. Even as Justice stepped closer, all Cinnamon could think about was protecting the younger mage she held in her arms. Fenris shouted a warning, having been standing with a hurt Varric, trying to stop the bleeding. Flicking up her hand Hawke stopped him, watching as Justice flared up once more.

"Stay away from us demon!"

"Are you one of them, to call me such? A bloodmage, or a traitor to your kin?"

Moving fast like she had before, Cinnamon put herself between Justice and Ella, bring the girl behind her. Her words had been well meant, but now Cinnamon could read the anger on Justice's face, and see the magic rising in his was not good, and it wasn't going to get any better.

"Anders... Justice, don't! She is one of us- I am too!"

None of her words had any apparent effect on the mage-turned-spirit-host, for the noble apostate could only watch as it began to pull back it's arm, a ball of blue flickering magic flaring up within. Tears streaked Ella's face even as she buried it into her saviour's back, clinging tightly to the red sash around her waist, and yet Cinnamon did not move. She would not let an innocent girl die.

But even as Justice brought it's arm down upon then, Cinnamon could see light of the fade within it flicker- And then it stumbled back, Anders once more taking control. Hands pressed against his head, he was a picture of what Cinnamon knew she could well become- A healer and a near friend-killer. A murderer and saviour. Slowly she brought herself tall, Ella clutching her legs in fear her rescuer would leave her for the wolves, even as the noble apostate extended her hand towards her troubled friend.

"Anders..."

"Oh Maker...If you hadn't been here, I would have... And you could be... I have to go."

"Anders!"

Gently pulling Ella away from her Cinnamon gave chase, running after Anders even as the mage turned a corner. The man ran like Templars followed, and with Cinnamon's injuries that had been inflicted upon by such men of the Order, she could not keep up- Only watch as he and his bright light of the Fade disappeared from her view. There was nothing Cinnamon could do but turn back, and clean up the mess left behind. Sometimes, it was all the mage seemed to do for her friends.

Voices drifted back form the cavern, and they sounded... Angered. Or at least, one did. Frowning Cinnamon hurried on, turning the corner to come across a sight she had never considered.

Varric was lying against the wall, the dwarf pressing a hand against his bleeding leg whilst looting the body of the Templar who had embedded it into him. He looked up as she entered, worry and yet, an apology, written on his face.

Fenris stood towering over the young circle mage, his bloodied sword still held within gauntleted hands. The blood that covered him was not his own, and she knew he had resented spilling it. And yet, even though Hawke could see Ella, shaking from head to toe and cowering from the elf, unable to contain her fear, it was not what she really saw. Instead all Cinnamon could see was Bethany in her place, and a Templar towering over her.

Her legs brought her closer even as Fenris spoke, reserved anger finally getting free from the elf.

"Answer me mage, was the abomination right? Are you a blood mage, or worse?'

"Please messere.."

"Mages will submit to temptation if they truely feel the need. No mage can resist it. So I ask again- Are you?"

Neither Circle Mage nor ex-Slave had expected for Cinnamon to appear but she did, right between the two. In a disconnected part of her brain, the young lady realised it was the third time in one day she had gotten between fights. However this time Cinnamon was on her knees, Ella having turned and buried her face into the noble apostate's shoulder, and the older woman's blue eyes finding their way to the shocked face of her friend.

"Fenris, why...?"

Her words broke the spell that held the elf, even if tears marred anything else she had to say and Cinnamon was forced to turn her head, pressing her lips against the young mage's head and whisper comforting words. Fenris was left reeling for a few moments, before he realised how his actions had hurt her. Violently turning the lanky elf half strode, half ran from the passage, passing Varric even as the wounded dwarf made his way to the pair of woman, a hand reaching out to pat Cinnamon's arm in quiet comfort. Sometimes, words could do nothing, to heal the soul.

* * *

><p>It had been in Lowtown, close to the alienage, that Cinnamon had deposited the young sleeping mage in her mother's arms. A sappy moment if Varric had ever seen one, but from the look on Hawke's face as she received a hug then a white-cloth covered package from the mother as a gift for her troubles, the dwarf was sure she deserved it. Her eyes were lined with tiredness, and even though she told him to go to the Hanged Man and leave her, Varric could not help but want to walk her home. She had faced a lot today.<p>

After leaving the Gallow's passage, the two companions and tired Ella had walked back to Ander's clinic, where Cinnamon had intended to find her friend. She disappeared inside, leaving him to calm down the young mage even more, but had returned a few minutes later with a blush on her cheeks and a smile on her lips. From there they had continued on their path up to Lowtown, Cinnamon carrying Ella most of the way without complaint.

But even now as Varric patted the mage goodbye and watched her disappear inside, he worried she was more then just physically tired. The Hanged Man the only destination in his mind however, Varric knew he could do nothing for the young apostate but hope she found peace somewhere. Somehow.

But for Cinnamon, what she sort was not in her home.

The entire building was empty- Her mother attended a noble ball, obviously blissful that she once more had constant friends, and the two dwarves that lived with her were out, more then likely at one of the merchant guild's taverns. Only she and Spirit remained, and it was not what Cinnamon needed. She needed, wanted, someone, anyone. Companionship would force the memories she did not want to leave, and let her escape. But there was no one Hawke could run to, and with tiredness seeping into her bones there was little she wished to do.

Changing armour for finery, but not boots this time for her feet ached with blisters, the noble apostate gathered up a bottle of cider and the white-cloth wrapped book and made her way to her library. Dragging a comfy seat out towards desk, after stoking the fire to an audible warmth, Cinnamon curled up with her knees pressed to her chest. Spirit huffed, planting himself down firmly down beside his mistress, eager to protect her.

Gently pushing the white cloth away from the gift she had received, Cinnamon found herself glancing a leather book that was bound together by a metal strap. The front was inscribed with the words 'A Slave's Life; The book of Shartan.' It stirred a memory within the mage, and she found herself uncurling and leaning over the desk, quill in one hand and parchment resting beneath the other. An old verse of the Chant of Light, one that had been marked as heresy to recite. The canticle of Shartan. Cinnamon murmured it out loud as she spoke, her voice carrying around the silent room no matter how quiet or soft her voice remained.

_"At Shartan's word, the sky  
>Grew black with arrows.<br>At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords  
>Rang from their sheaths,<br>A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming:  
>Those who had been slaves were now free. "<em>

"You know, that if you were to be caught reciting that, the Chantry would have you thrown out of Kirkwall. Or onto a sword."

Cinnamon nearly jumped of her skin, Spirit launching to his feet with his hackles raised, as a familiar rough voice sounded by the door. Quickly putting the stopper on her ink Cinnamon scrambled to her feet, having being completely unaware Fenris had even entered.

"I-I am sorry, I didn't hear you knock-"

"That woud be because, I suspect, I did not knock. I came to... Apologise for my earlier behaviour."

The bare footed male brought himself towards her, much to Cinnamon's surprise. She never encountered Fenris when he was this... Kind. Friendly. Open. Then again, it was very rare for the mage to meet the elf alone- Always with her friends or simply visiting his mansion to ask for his help for an adventure. The only time she could remember that was anything close to him behaviour now, was when she met him as he celebrated his anniversary of his escape. It had been then she learnt of how he managed to get away from Danarius, and the memories he too tried to avoid. The entire night had, however, ended with Cinnamon learning she was not the only one slightly interested with the other- And it caused the mage to blush remembering it. But he had been slightly drunk. Tonight, he was not, for she could sense no alcohol in him as he walked towards her.

"Fenris, there is no need. I know you... Don't trust mages that much, and if I'd known what Anders had been planning-"

"If I'd known Cannella, I would have insisted on coming along. You nearly got yourself killed."

Protectiveness flashed through Fenris's eyes, and Cinnamon felt her blush creep further, still not use to him using her real name. As he stopped a little away from her she felt her head tilt, a smile forcing her red, freckled cheeks upwards.

"Your reaction was understandable- Hush, let me finish you silly elf. Your reaction was understandable, and there is no reason to apologise. It was an emotion, and there is no logic behind emotions. You must know by now I wouldn't hold it against you."

Silence stretched out as the words sunk in, Cinnamon turning away to tidy up the parchment and book, all because she just realised what she had said. And what she was thinking she could have said. Quickly signing the bottom of the page with her real name the noble apostate set it aside to dry, reaching for the book so she would not have to turn around and show Fenris her slowly growing blush. However, a hand came to rest over hers, one carved with lyrium, and Cinnamon felt her fight against the blush defeated as a warm breath tickled her neck. Struggling to find something to distract herself and keep her cool Cinnamon focused on the book, trying to find her tongue.

"H-have you read this book? 'A Slave's Life', about Shartan?"

Her words had some effect, but only in causing Fenris to step away. Stifling a sigh of relief Cinnamon turned, spotting the look in his eyes. Her friend looked away, but his action were like an open book, and Cinnamon read them easily even. She had offended him somehow. Meaning to say something, anything, Hawke was cut off as Fenris spoke up.

"In the Imperium, they never taught slaves to read. I.. Still, do not know."

Blinking in surprise, Hawke nearly punched herself at her stupidity- Of course she should have figured it out. But just as fast as that self-hate, a solution came to her mind, and before she could think twice on it it was out.

"May I... Teach you?"

Taking a step back Fenris blinked in shock, looking at the mage through startled eyes. Cinnamon took a step back to, hands being brought up to shake in front of her.

"No, I don't mean, I just meant that because you are no longer a slave, and you're free, so you should be able to learn now. I d-don't pity you if that is what you are thinking- I've never learnt to play diamondback, t-though I'm sure that's not the same thing. I'm making a fool of myself now-"

Fenris interrupted her, a finger pressed against the babbling mage's lips stopping her from making more of a 'fool' of herself. A smile reached his lips, the action causing his eyes to glimmer, and Cinnamon felt the blush on her cheeks spread once more.

"You are not a fool Cannella- In fact, you seem quite cute when you act that way. And I... Accept you kind offer."

A smile the mimicked his spread onto her face, and Hawke very calmly turned back to the desk. Gathering up the book, parchment, ink Hawke paused, hand hovering over the chant she had written down. With a smile she slid it into the front page of the book, leaving it there as a surprise for the elf, for she intended to gift him with the leather package. Slowly Cinnamon walked to the fire and sat down, waiting for Fenris to follow suit.

As the two settled down, relaxing once more in each other's company, the fire flickered on their awkward attempts to teach and learn. It was not something either would forget anytime soon. Or would want to, as the night wore on, and Cinnamon forget her worries, memories and regrets whilst Fenris forgot his real reason for seeing Hawke.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 4)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Aveline, Varric, Various Soon-To-Be-Dead People, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

Oh, and before anyone asks, she is still wearing the Fugitive's Mantle. I know I screwed up the 'meet the hunters' dialogue but it sounds cooler this way.

* * *

><p>"Hawke..."<p>

"Yes Aveline?"

"About your wedding gift..."

Quietly smiling to herself, the mage in mention walked on but glanced back, chuckling at the look on Aveline's face. They had been walking through the Wounded Coast for a few hours now, but as the sun was beginning it's steady decline towards rock bottom then group began to head back. Cinnamon couldn't help but smile- She had not been out of her house for days, for many reasons. If the trips around Hightown did not count, nor the ones to Fenris's mansion to count to teach, then she had not been out for a week. It was refreshing somehow, to be back on the Wounded Coast, murdering Evets' Marauders and rescuing apostates. Like nothing had changed.

"I hope it wasn't to forward of me- I j-just found it, and thought you may like it."

Cinnamon stuttered her reply, cursing herself for such childish notions. Unable to speak correctly had always been a fault of hers, but after what occurred with Anders in the Gallows passage had left the mage with shaken nerves that occasional showed. It was not something Cinnamon relished.

"It was very thoughtful. I don't know how you found it, but... Thank you. It means a lot. And even had my favourite colour on it."

Varric and Fenris shared a glance, completely out of the loop even as Cinnamon chuckled once more, head shaking side to side. She said nothing more, and as the group began the long path inland and away from the coast, Varric couldn't contain himself.

"What did Lady Spice get you Aveline? Or find you. I know she's good at that."

Waiting for a reply Varric glanced down at his own hand, gently running his finger over the Tethras signet ring Cinnamon had found. It had been completely out of blue when Hawke had handed it over, unsure if it belonged to him or even if he wanted it back- But it had been the right choice.

"Yes, she is... Cinnamon found my father's chevalier band, a sort of bracelet I believe my mother had engraved for him as a gift. Silver, with green gemstones. I never even remembered that he sold it to get me into the King's army..."

All three friends glanced up, watching Cinnamon's back as she walked ahead of them. As if feeling their gaze however she glanced back, smiling faintly.

"Father always said I had a knack for finding things. Mother use to use me to find that one missing sock after laundry day."

Chuckling to herself she turned again, walking slowly up the hill that lead away from the Wounded Coast. Cinnamon had defineatly been more cheerful of late- Nearly everyone had been unsure why. Nearly being the optimum word. After a few moments the three followed, but it was Varric's probing questions that broke the silence.

"You don't talk a lot about your father Lady Spice. Who was he?"

Glancing over her shoulder to see both Varric and Aveline staring at her in interest, and Fenris doing his best to listen whilst appearing not to care, Cinnamon simply sighed. Sometimes her friends made the noble apostate wonder...

"My father was Malcolm Hawke. He died when I was nineteen- We had already been in Lothering for seven years, so we were no longer running- and he left it up to me to protect the family. I think Carver resented that, but... Mother keeps saying she sees him in me."

As the group finally reached the top of the hill Cinnamon found her smile fading, knowing the questions would not stop. And she was correct- Aveline spoke up this time, brow furrowed in thought.

"You mentioned your sister occasionally, but never in detail."

"Bethany, yes. She was a mage like me, but she never embraced her powers. I think she was sad that our family took so many risks to keep her out of the circle- She use to insist that if I got caught, I was smart enough to escape. I think she wanted a normal life, without magic. Even though Carver and her were twins, she stuck to me like glue. We got each other into a lot of trouble..."

Aveline chuckled at that, watching her younger friend carefully. Hawke never went into depth about her family, and there was a question Aveline wished to ask but... Hawke was hard to predict when it came to family matters. The Guard Captain never knew how she'd reply to them. Even as the group made their way through a rather familiar scene, Aveline very quietly asked her question.

"Hawke... How did your father die?"

That question got Hawke- Stumbling a little the mage didn't look back but kept her head up, not wanting her face to be seen. A small flare of annoyance touched the mage but she kept it away, not wanting to hurt her friends. However, before she could deflect it in another way, or even sya a word, someone else saved her. But not in the way she had expected

"Stop right there!"

By instinct Hawke froze, her staff in her hands without the mage seeming to move. Fenris followed suit, freezing to stop beside her, and behind them Aveline and Varric withdrew their weapons. Cinnamon instantly recognised the men- They looked exactly like the ones who attacked her in her first years in Kirkwall, right when they ran into Fenris. They had been surrounded then, twenty to four. Glancing around, the mage realised her group was in relatively the same situation now.

From the looks of it, the man who shouted was the leader- His sword and shield marked him as nothing special, even as he stood atop a rocky rise. But he was flanked by two mages, both which had their own staffs out and ready. Beside her Fenris flashed blue, anger running through every crack on his face.

"Hunters"

"You are in possession of stolen property. Back away from the slave now and you'll be spared."

It took Cinnamon only a few moments to calm herself down so she was able to speak, but when she did it caused the others to look at her in shock. Never had they heard her speak so low, so dangerously and angry. Lightening began to dance around the spirit mage as she released some of her destructive power, looking at the speaker through narrowed eyes.

"Fenris is a free man. I am not backing away from anything."

Side by side, the two friends shared a glance. Fenris was still glowing a faintly blue colour, and Cinnamon was surronded by blue lightening, flickering in and out of her skin. Together, the pair were quite the spectacle- And yet the speaker seemed not fazed. That, or he was far too confident in his men.

"I won't ask again- Set away from the slave."

Bursting in blue light Fenris took a step forwards, greatsword pulled into both hands in a flash.

"I am not your slave!"

* * *

><p>Brown magic flooded Cinnamon's hands as she pressed them against Aveline's back, healing it before anymore blood could leave the warrior. Everyone was dead, hunters and Tevinter mages alike. It was only, after draining half a bottle of lyrium then another of healing that Cinnamon could begin to help her companions. Varric, already healed of the sword marks on his arm, was busying looting some of the bodies, insisting he might find something useful. Hawke remained crouched behind Aveline, one hand pushing the wound together and the other healing it. Fenris stood behind her, a few feet away, searching the dead body of the leader. Searching for whoever sent them.<p>

With a small sigh Cinnamon lent back, her magic dissipating as the exhausted mage sat on the ground with a thud. She had barely killed anyone in the fight, having been preoccupied by sheltering her companions in a ward to deter the Tevinter Mage's surrond spells, like fireballs and worse. Because of Fenris's rage, the elf had become careless, and Cinnamon had spent a lot of the battle healing the near mortal wounds inflicted on him before he even realised what had happened.

Polishing off the half-empty bottle of lyrium Cinnamon got shakily to her feet, waving a hand at Aveline as the guard captain reached out to help her. Turning slowly, Hawke intended to go help Fenris- But then it hit her. The presence of a foreign light, off to her right. Glancing that way she spotted one of the attackers, one that had been flung away probably by one of her spells, lying chest first in the sandy ground. Taking a few steps in his direction Cinnamon frowned, unable to work out what he was doing. From this distance, Cinnamon could not tell what he was, only that it didn't look like armour he wore. A glance behind her told Hawke that Aveline had gone to help Varric, or at least berate him for his looting habits. No one noticed the noble apostate as she walked slowly towards the downed man. Hawke let her magic flow into her hands, preparing to encase the other lone survivor in a prison before getting Fenris- If she warned the elf now, it would only give this survivor a warning. But as she got closer, Cinnamon realised her mistake.

The survivor was a mage. And he turned his head, Hawke discovered he had been expecting her.

A cry ripped form her lips, warning her friends to her predicament, as other mage cast Winter's Grasp upon her. Ice stabbed into her legs as she became frozen to the spot, holding her tight within it's freezing grasp. However, it was obvious the mage was weak- The ice stopped spreading just below her chest, and with her arms free Cinnamon turned her ire on the mage. Realising his mistake the Tevinter man pulled himself to his wounded feet and began to flee, hands and feet both working to keep himself up right. A shout from behind Hawke told her Fenris was coming, but he would not be fast enough.

In a flash her magic was back in her hands, and Cinnamon shouted the words she needed to say as she flung them out. Lights shot up and around the mage, imprisoning him in it's crushing brightness, and Cinnamon closed her hands so it would stay. But in her tired state it had already began to falter and fail before Hawke had truly finished casting, and the noble apostate knew it wouldn't hold.

"Cannella-"

"Don't worry about me, my magic won't hold. Get the Tevinter."

Leaning forwards Cinnamon pressed her hands against the ice, know her limbs were bleeding where the ice had cut through them. Wincing in pain the mage tried to do something to it- But lightening would no work and Cinnamon knew no fire spells. She was grateful however as Aveline and Varric arrived, their faces betraying the shock and worry.

"Hawke, don't move. We'll get you out."

Nodding her reply Cinnamon bit her lip against the pain, allowing her two friends to hack away at the ice surrounding her body with daggers, shields. Even Bianca pitched in, though Hawke assumed the crossbow would not be pleased with the notion. Biting her lip Cinnamon glanced up, watching as her own spell finally broke just as Fenris reached his victim. She could not hear their words and nor could see Fenris's actions, but for a few moments Fenris seemed to talk to the mage. And as Cinnamon watched in horror he snapped his elbows sideways, breaking the mage's neck. Even though she couldn't see him do it Cinnamon was aware of it. Swallowing away bile she glanced away and down, realising that she was very nearly free.

"Hadrianna."

If Hawke could jump she would have, just as Fenris's voice sounded right in front of her. How he had moved from so far away to right beside her so fast amazed the mage- And yet, she knew she was tired, and losing it. Looking up Cinnamon met his gaze as he clenched his fists, attempting not to hurt someone. Reaching out to help her Cinnamon shook her head, indicting she was nearly free anyway. Instead the elf began to pace, unable to remain still with the anger swirling inside.

"I was a fool to think I was free. They will never let me be."

"Who's Hadrianna? Do you k-know her?"

Cinnamon winced in pain as Aveline's dagger cut her leg. The warrior murmured an apology, Hawke muttering her forgiving reply through gritted teeth before glancing back at Fenris.

"My old master's apprentice. I remember her well."

The noble apostate found herself shivering, though from the ice or the hate in Fenris's words she wasn't sure.

"She is a sniveling social climber that would sell her own children if she thought it would please Danarius. If she is here, it is at his bidding. I knew he wouldn't let this go."

"She won't g-give up? Then... Do you know where she is?"

"The mage said that she was holding out in the abandoned slaving pens- Though it would seem they are no longer abandoned. We must go quickly, before she had a chance to prepare, or... Flee."

Fenris flared up blue, his anger rising at the mere concept of Hadrianna escaping. But before Cinnamon could comfort him or calm him down, Varric stabbed his dagger forwards and took out the last chuck of ice that was supporting her in her stuck place. It still stuck to her, but as her mass pressed against it, the rest shattered.

With a cry Cinnamon fell forwards, only to have shining blue arms encircle her. Regardless of the actual situation at hand, Hawke felt a blush creep up on her as Fenris held her, pulling her up to her feet and holding her shoulders until she could stand. Varric and Aveline climbed to their feet and watched as Cinnamon, who shook from being frozen for so longer and not moving, struggled to hold herself upright. Her legs were bleeding, though that was solved quickly by healing magic sent coursing through herself.

"Thank you for the help Varric and Ave. I forgot how much of a disadvantage I am with no elemental powers."

Varric chuckled, and though Aveline nodded she seemed a little unsure about how to treat her new nickname.

"You should not have run after him alone Cinnamon. Your life is not your own."

Gently rubbing her face the mage in question nodded, smiling faintly at Fenris as he let her go. Seemingly lost in thought Cinny stood still, fingers running over her chin and mouth, head bent. After a few moments she looked up, and grinning in her unique, kind way, made her path of thoughts clear.

"To the holding caves it is. No one threatens my friends, and lives."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 4.5)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Aveline, Varric, Hadrianna, Shades x∞, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

I do apologise for the fight scenes of this chapter, because I have never written anything like them before. Please, stay with me. I'm getting better :3

* * *

><p>The wind whipped her hair, and it wasn't kind.<p>

Then again, it wasn't normal wind, as Cinnamon was not outside.

She stood with her back present against a wall, her staff held out in front of her as a counter to a sword slash as mage casting a whirlwind of ice around the room. With a very unladylike growl Hawke flipped her staff, remembering the lessons her father had taught each week, and swung the wooden weapon around herself. Rolling it over her shoulders Cinnamon bent, and the blade part ripped a hole in the warrior's exposed ribcage. Even as he gurgled and feel to the ground, Hawke felt the pull of an experience Force Mage, just as whomever it was cast a spell she recognised as Fist of the Maker.

Cinnamon had no time to dwell on that fact as she was first lifted into the air by a few inches, then slammed into the hard stone ground.

If not for Fenris, she would not be here by choice. They had journeyed to the holding caves, killing a lot of hunters and slavers along the way- Or more correctly, Aveline and Fernis had. Varric and Hawke had hung back, trying to regain their respective energies and health before they were forced to fight once more. Both had suffered greatly in the encounter with the first batch, Cinnamon being frozen to one spot and Varric neatly cut up. But the dwarf came out no worse for wear, and though Cinnamon still felt the weariness seeping into her bones and mind, she was ok.

A thought flashed through the mind of the dazed mage, and she winced at it. They were already halfway through the pens, and Fenris had not spoken a word since they met the elven slave Orana in the center. It concerned Cinnamon, and made her wonder if he was angry with her, for offering the younger elf a place to stay safe, be fed and paid work. He had rounded on her when she offered it as had Aveline, but after explaining to them what she meant Aveline had flashed the weary mage a smile, and Fenris had simply nodded, apologised, then lead the way to the next door. None of it had been enough to comfort the mage, after knowing what could have occurred to Orana.

Was blood magic bound to always follow Hawke around?

The time to think however, was gone, as a shout of a familiar female warrior sounded off to her left. Cinnamon lifted her head gently, the world spinning and blood touching her lips, and her eyes fell to her discarded staff. With effort Hawke stretched out her fingers of her right hand, reaching for the wooden weapon- But for her struggles, all the noble apostate got was a metal encased boot launched down upon her hand.

Screaming in pain Cinnamon felt herself cringe away from the hurt, beginning to curl in on herself. The action was never complete, as a hand grasped her throat and pulled her up, up to the point where her feet couldn't touch the ground and she was forced to look down to meet the gaze of the hunter who held her. The man laughed, and Hawke tried to conjuring lightening or even the power for Mind Blast- But the best the noble woman could do was tear at the hands that held her, blood running down her face and her lungs burning for oxygen.

"What's the matter mage? Demon got your tongue?"

Once more laughter echoed, but the mage he spoke to could not see him past the black dots on her vision, could not hear past the ringing that caused her head to ache. Struggling to breath, Cinnamon vaguely noticed a flash of blue in the corner of her vision- And then the man stopped laughing, the noise being replaced with a gurgling.

A small moan slipped from Cinnamon's lips as she was set free, falling to the ground on her hand and knees. The world spun even as she coughed, more blood running onto her lips, and the mage called on the reserves within her. Even as her right hand began to mend, Hawke knew she was running out of energy. Someone knew Fenris would come for them, and knew that a mage would follow. They had, obviously, taken precautious to that matter, because for once in all her time as a mage Cinnamon had become a target on the battlefield. She assumed that this was the life her brother lived everyday, though with less varying opponents.

"Cannella please, say something."

Suddenly aware someone had picked her up, and held her by her shoulders a little away form their body, Cinnamon blinked at the flurry lights and focused on the emerald eyes that stared into her.

"Ow."

The only reply the mage could give did not satisfy Fenris, for he did not release his hold on her. But the signs of her magic was obvious- On her face, the cuts began to heal, the only mark of them ever being there was the blood that began to dry. Bring both hands up just as Varric and Aveline came running, Cinnamon managed a small smile as she flexed her right hand. She could not keep breaking her bones, for soon they would be damaged beyond even magical repair. Touching her face with shaking fingers Cinnamon could feel the blood, and presumed to try and wipe it away, her weak efforts replaced by Fenris's slightly tender ones.

"Lady Spice, you look worse then a darkspawn does everyday."

Chuckling slightly, Cinnamon accepted the bottle of lyrium handed to her, and untangling herself from Fenris's arms and caring clean up, drained it completely.

"I know. However, I can sense blood magic nearby- We are close to our destination. I can hold on till then, so stop looking at me like that Ave. I am not a child."

Getting yet another chuckle from Varric, and one from Fenris, the mage gently placed the empty bottle on the ground, reclaimed her staff, and set off towards the door. She would not be beaten by someone she'd never met. Not without meeting them first of course.

* * *

><p>It only took an encounter with half a dozen more hunters before they finally came close to what Cinnamon quickly declared that the source of the blood magic.<p>

"It is right around this corner, and it... No, she, is not alone."

Getting a set of grim nods as a reply Cinnamon lead the way into what her smarter side told her was trap. Ignoring the inner voice Hawke let lightening flood into her hands, rounding the corner just in time to discover her smarter side was right.

At least three dozen hunters was all it seemed the apprentice had kept as personal guards, and yet Cinnamon knew better. Even as Aveline and Fenris charged, and Varric fired his first bolt, Cinnamon let her spell loose on the three idiots who rushed her

"You will regret coming here slave!"

The taunt echoed around the room, resonating from the black haired mage that stood at the back of the room, and Cinnamon felt goose bumps rise as the promise in her tone. Moving away from Varric in an attempt to draw the hunters that were harassing him, Hawke found her back presented to a wall and three more hunters surrounding her. With little effort and even less mana Cinnamon she cast Mind Blast, sending the warriors flying before she did her check on her friends.

To her left, Varric shot the hunter that came at him, grinning grimly as the man fell to the ground with a sickening thud. Cinnamon sent a healing spell out to him, replenishing his stamina before it was entirely gone. To her front and slightly right Aveline cut down the last of the guards, letting Fenris go for Hadrianna, murder in his eyes.

"No as much as you will witch!"

Just as Fenris reached the mage, the only one other then his master that he had dreamed of killing, the apprentice smiled- And brought her staff through her stomach. A cloud of purple and red replaced her, and Fenris roared in rage just as his sword cut the coloured mist. There was no one left alive except the four companions- And yet, as the elf glanced towards Cinnamon, he could see that his friend had gone pale, staring at the ground beneath their feet.

"Hawke?"

The noble apostate raised her head, a look of shock and fear written on her face. But as she opened her mouth to reply, a flash of red appeared of her shoulder- And suddenly Hadrianna was behind her, a morbid grin upon her face.

"Hawke!"

He could do nothing as Cinnamon turned her head slightly, only to have hands pressed against her head. There was a pause, and then a cry tore from Hawke's lips and she fell to her knees, hands clawing at her skull before pressing into her eyes. The witch grinned, walking slowly away from the shaking mage, and as corpses rose to her call and shades to her promises, Fenris ran at her with his sword drawn and held high.

* * *

><p>Pain. In her head. Cinnamon tried to scream for help, for someone, but no one came. Taking her hands away from her face, she pressed them into the ground- Only to feel grass, not stone.<p>

With a gasp, the magelet finally opened her eyes, just in time to see the green grass be traded once more for cold stone. In an instant, Cinnamon understood- A spell of entropy had been cast upon her. Horror. And as her vision flickered between the two different sights, it became obvious Hadrianna was not well trained in such a mage class. If she had, then Cinnamon would only see the nightmare, not both reality and horror.

A cry sounded to her left, and by instinct, her head snapped up. Aveline was fighting back to back with Varric, but a taloned hand of a demon had found its way down her shoulder. Fenris was killing every corpse and shade in sight, attempting to get closer to Hadrianna- But there were having limited success without Cinnamon.

_The world was spinning, but even though her young eyes, Cinny could see where she was. A flash of silver and red caught the nineteen year old's eyes and she glanced sideways, blinking against the rain and squinting through the thick wall of trees. Templars. Pure fear ran through the mage and she pulled at her bindings, struggling against the tree she was tied to. They would find her if she did not move..._

"Oh Maker no.."

Cinnamon pressed a hand behind her, pulling herself to her feet as reality came back, chasing away the memory. She had to focus, had to help friends. Had to fight the foreign spell that took hold of her.

_'Please, let me go.'  
>A sob left the young mage's lips, and yet it did nothing to convince the man that stood there, emotionless. He glanced at her, and his smile grew sad. Cinny knew his story, knew who he was- And knew why he was doing this.<br>'I'm not the one that killed your family.'  
>'You are a mage. You'll do.'<br>Without another word he turned and left her bound, the rain soaking the thin girl till she shook. The Templars were coming. They would find her soon enough._

Once more the wet forest receded and Cinnamon took hold of the moment, tears streaking her face. Flashing her hand out, she sent a healing spell through the entire group, repairing all their bleeding wounds. The battle was almost over, Aveline and Varric beating back the last of those that surrounded them. But still, Cinnamon could do nothing as the spell took over once more.

_She could hear them coming. Closer now, and from what she could tell, there were six of them. Six heavily armoured Templars, heading her way. They would find her soon. Even though she was tied to a tree, they would sense her magic for sure. This had been the purpose of the kidnapping- He had not treated her badly, but the man had intended to turn her in. For the crimes of another. There would be no way Cinny would survive this Templar encounter. An apostate as her age would not be left alive._

To her left a cry sounded, and even as Cinnamon staggered on her feet she pulled her head towards it. Fenris had killed the last corpse that stood in his way, and went for Hadrianna. The witch was no longer confident- Instead, fear flashed across her face, even as she raised her staff to blow Fenris's first attack.

_A presence tainted Cinny, and she tried to glance towards it- But trying to look behind one's self when tied to a tree was impossible. However, she did not need to wait very long before the owner was revealed.  
>'Father?'<br>'Oh, Cinny dear.'  
>'Dad, don't! The Templars, they are coming. Leave me, or they catch you too!.'<br>Her father looked up, towards the sound of boots and men talking, and it was only then Cinny saw the look on her father's face. It was determine, and... Grave. Gently her father withdrew his staff, never taking his eyes of the Templars who had yet to spot the two apostates. He turned slowly towards her, and the young mage could see tears swarming in his eyes.  
>'Father, you can't stay here! Better they find me then you- Beth needs you. Mother needs you!'<br>'Cinn_amon!"

Reality broke through the mage's nightmare and she stumbled back, hitting the wall with a cry. Fenris had called to her, but as she looked up, she saw he stood above Hadrianna, worry in every line of his face. But the noble apostate could not focus, her hands flying up to clutch her head as the spell once more took place, and all she could see was the triumph on Hadrianna's face.

_Her father walked away, leaving Cinny bound but with a dagger in her slick fingers. He did not, however, leave- Instead, he headed straight for the Templars. Straight to a death sentence, to save her eldest child, whose tears ran with the rain._

Tears fell thickly and Cinnamon held her head, a cry leaving her lips as she attempts to dispel the magic. Not this memory. Anything but this one. At first, she'd hoped it would end quickly, but now it was playing all the way through. A noise made her lift her head just a little, and Cinnamon watched as Fenris bent over Hadrianna, anger clear in every body movement. Aveline and Varric watched her, distress clearly on their faces, and yet they did not approach the mage. Maybe Hadrianna had informed them of her state. Hawke had no time to focus, as her view changed once more.

_Fire. The Templars were burning. And none of the heat reached Cinny as she stopped restraining the cries, and the young mage franticly cut away at the bindings that held her tight. Her father was killing the men of the Order, but she could see he was losing. He needed her help.  
>'Father'<br>_

_'Fat_her!"

As their noble friend cried out a word, the only indication of what the nightmare she was forced to watch they had seen yet, Aveline understood what she was seeing- and could bare it no longer.

"Make her suffering stop witch!"

Rounding on the apprentice, the one Fenris grasped around the throat, Aveline felt her rage begin to boil. All she got was a laugh as a reply.

"Your friend is weak, her mind acceptable to my spells. You still trust her, hm?"

With a growl Aveline spat at her, leaving Fenris to do what he pleased. She had to do something to save Cinnamon. With Varric following close behind, the two ran towards their young friend even as she brought her head back up, eyes focused on Fenris and Hadrianna, and cried out once last time.

"No!"

_'No!'  
>The rope fell from her hands, and Cinny hit the ground with a thud. Scrambling to her feet, she took a few steps towards her father, just as he killed the second to last Templar. As he saw her however, he threw his hand up, shouting a warning.<br>And Cinny could only watch as the last Templar buried his sword through her father's back, and his eyes bore into hers, asking why._

With one last gasp Hadrianna stared at Fenris, watching the anger on his face that made the ex-slave seem so akin to a caged wolf. And as her eyes fluttered shut he turned, the blood of witch's heart running from his silver gauntlet as he made his way over to where Aveline held Cinnamon, the spell that held the girl within the nightmare finally broken.

The tears on her face stopped any joy however, and as Fenris watched she bent her head and cried more, unable to speak.

He should not be here.

Turning slowly, Fenris pushed open the door to outside, ignoring Varric as the dwarf reached out to stop him. He needed some air. He needed to be away from the mage that meant everything to him, just for a little while.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 5)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Orana, Leandra, some noble git, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

* * *

><p>When Cinnamon finally pushed open the doors of her home, it was with much relief she found no one waiting for her. Though who could have been was a perfectly good question, it was not one Cinnamon was in any state to actually answer. Weary feet brought her through the front entrance, and she walked slowly towards her room, mind anywhere but her abused soles.<p>

Shortly after the spell was broken, the magelet had discovered that Fenris had left. He had been unable to watch her cry and know that somehow it was his fault. She did not blame him- And when she was ready, she'd go find him. When she was able to string two thoughts together that was. It had been early morning by the time they got back to Kirkwall, and both Aveline and Varric had left her at Lowtown, claiming to have things to do. Really, Cinnamon knew they just desperately needed a rest.

However, as the apostate pulled herself up the stairs, she wasn't entirely sure if they needed it more then she did.

"M-mistress?"

A voice echoed from the corner of the room, and Hawke's weary body turned slowly to focus on the young elven slave they'd rescued from Hadrianna's lair. Cinnamon had not noticed her when she came in. Simply assuming every sane person was either asleep or out buying ingredients as Bodahn and Sandal were, Cinny had clean forgotten all about Orana. She stood timidly in the corner, obviously scared of the magelet, and the instant streak of cold sadness that flushed through her system woke Cinnamon up a bit more.

"I am no one's mistress, just a tired woman. Orana, wasn't it?"

When the trembling girl nodded Cinnamon smiled and turned, walking back down the stairs she had just spent a fair amount of effort climbing up. Crossing the room slowly, the noble apostate came to a halt in front of the elf, her unique smile kind and her tired eyes crinkled.

"Orana?"

"Yes, mistress?"

"You are free."

"W-what?"

If she had not been standing beside the wall, Cinnamon was sure Orana would have taken a step back. Scared suddenly that the girl would get the wrong idea Hawke grasped her elven hands in her own, words tumbling from her lips so fast that is just proved how tired Hawke really was.

"I mean, you are welcome to stay here, as a servant, but you are no longer a slave you're free. If you want to stay you'll be paid and you can have your own room. You'd be family but it's up to you I'm sorry if I offended I'll leave now."

Turning in a flurry of torn robes Cinnamon felt a blush creeping over her face, hurt feet carrying the girl up the stairs as she realised who she'd just made a fool of herself too. Somehow, Cinnamon knew that Orana had never had someone act that way to her before. It would have been the other way around if anything. Before she reached the top however, Orana's shaking voice spoke out.

"I'll stay messere."

Glancing back, Hawke managed a tired smile and nod, before continuing to her room to pull off her boots and spiked knee guards, dump her staff in the corner and collapse on her bed face first. Without another word or motion Cinnamon slid into a dreamless state, one she was extremely grateful for.

* * *

><p>If one were to count Hawke's breaths as she slept, they would find that the mage breathed every five seconds, and that she only breathed in for two. If someone was to watch her as she slept, they would find that the years of always smiling, always caring had left the relaxed face of the mage to be thoughtful and kind. And if one had enough confidence to reach out and touch the mage smooth cheek as she lay, unresponsive, they would find that Cinnamon was not a light sleeper.<p>

If Fenris sat on the edge of Cinnamon's bed long enough, studying his friend's features, he could see why she was still very beautiful regardless of her scars. The one that marked her left cheek had somehow avoided all her freckles, and was beginning to fade by itself- Unlike the one that maimed her throat, which would never disappear. Even Ander's healing magic had only caused the brave mage more pain.

He knew he should hate Cannella, for what she was, but the more he was around her the only thing he could feel towards the mage was a wordless urge to stay with her.

Something stirred on the noble apostate's face, and Fenris had enough time to remove his hand from her pale red cheek, cross the room and lean against the wall before her eyes fluttered open, quickly blinking against the sun. As he watched Cinnamon breathed in deeply, seemingly happy with the simple fact she had woken up, before her head rolled in his direction. Her familiar blue eyed gaze drop to him, and already the same kind smile draw across her cheeks.

"I would ask why you are in my room, but I suspect the answer wouldn't make any sense in my current state."

Happiness spread through the mage as Fenris chuckled, and she slowly pulled herself up, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to wake up more. A sideways glance at her open window left Cinnamon guessing it was about mid afternoon. She was probably not going very far until tomorrow, even though she had much to do- Like investigating murders in Darktown, and chasing up workers at the Bone Pit. However, with the company she had, it wasn't a problem.

"Cannella... I came to apologise, for dragging you into yesterday's mess."

Glancing towards the elf, Cinnamon raised her eyebrow even as she turned, feet touching the ground as she unfolded. It was then Hawke realised she no longer lay in her tattered armour. Instead, the only thing she wore was the long, white undergown. Her mother's way of showing she cared. Swiftly standing up only to sway slightly the mage's eyes once more met with Fenris's, hers crinkled with kindness the whole time.

"You are my friend Fenris- I wouldn't have left you to do so alone."

Even though he looked away, Cinnamon saw the way he reacted upon her calling him a friend- And then she pretended not to, as a blush began to take hold of her cheeks. For the look in his eyes was something akin to regret and hurt, rolled into one in his expressive emerald eyes.

Gently shushing the elf out with the promise she wouldn't climb out the window and abandon him, Hawke quickly shut the door then changed her armour for a different, less destroyed outfit.

Voices floated to greet Hawke as the noble woman shut her door moments later, but she only recognised two of the three. Fenris seemed disconnected, and Leandra sounded proud. However the last male voice Cinnamon could not place- It held an uptight air about it, like most of the nobility around here had, and instantly Cinnamon did not like it's owner. The words that drifted her way did not do anything to change that impression.

"I am sorry then, but if you are not an associate of Lady Amell's, then who are you elf?"

"I am a friend of Cinnamon's."

"You should use respect when you talk of Mistress Hawke. But yes... Such a beautiful specimen indeed... You mentioned to my mother Lady Amell, that your daughter has no lover?"

"That is correct Ser Tristan- Oh, here she is now. Come here Cinnamon, there is someone I wish for you to meet."

Not in a million years would Cinnamon ever understand the ways of nobility- Her mother had tried to teach her, but it was not something an apostate mage who grew up constantly on the move, in various hovels and rundown shacks, never having any friends except her family, could understand. With a look of dire need sent towards Bodahn, only to get an apologetic shrug in reply, Cinnamon did as she was asked.

They stood in front of the fire, her mother with her back to her, Ser Tristan standing with his back to the door and Fenris across from him. At her mother's words they all glanced towards her, causing the mage to blush faintly. Ser Tristan was obviously a handsome human, with cold blond hair and a stubborn chin, but she could tell he had never fought anything worse then a kitchen mouse in all his life. Suddenly, Cinnamon wished she wasn't wearing the high leather collar around her throat.

Her mother meant well, trying to find her daughter a 'suitable husband', but Hawke was not one to love someone like Ser Tristan. Not with the way his amber eyes roamed in places she would happily punch another for so doing.

"Cinnamon, this is Ser Tristan, the son of my friend Lady Love."

With a nod Cinnamon accepted the hand offered, a little disgust running through the noble woman at the way Ser Tristan's lips lingered on the back of her hand. The mage was quickly finding the anger she'd felt before growing as she stepped back between her mother and her friend.

"It is a pleasure to meet you. My I inquire as to why you are here my lord?"

No one noticed just how fake her voice was, or how hard Cinnamon was trying to force the smile onto her lips. She wanted to do nothing more then run. Fast. However, 'her lord' smiled in perverted way and stared at her in a matching way, his hand absent mindedly brushing the imaginary dust from his noble clothes.

"As I said to Mistress Amell and the... elf, I was wondering if you would honour me with a evening out. Unless of course, you intend to waste it with this 'friend' of yours."

All civilary left Cinnamon at that comment, and she pressed her hands behind her back just to hid how badly the shock with anger and unused mana. No one disrespected her friends in such a way, least of all those she cared deeply about. And yet, Cinnamon could not just fry this man where he stood. Her mother would be displeased, and she wouldn't wish the clean up job on poor Bodahn.

"Actually Ser Tristan, I already have a date with Fenris- And as a matter of fact, I will not be free for all other evenings either. Thank you for coming, but we must be off."

Her reply surprised everyone, Fenris not in the least- But he managed to hid it as Cinnamon grasped his hand and pulled him along, leaning over to peck her mother on the cheek. Then, without another glance back she made the door like Templars were on her tail. It was all she could do to refuse the urge to not hurt the bloody noble man.

Upon reaching the outside of her estate, Cinnamon turned and promptly made her way towards the stairs that lead to Lowtown, her hand letting go of Fenris's even as he strided to keep up with her.

"I'm sorry that that had to occur near you. Mother's friends are nice, but simply because I am her daughter does not mean I wish to marry their noble, uptight sons, bloody shite spawn of the tainted gods."

Resisting the urge to bang her head against a passing wall, Cinnamon glanced back to see Fenris regarding her with a raised eyebrow. Shaking her head, the noble apostate intended to keep on walking, the Hanged Man the only thought within her mind- But it only took her a few more steps before she realised Fenris no longer followed.

In the middle of the Hightown plaza, right before the steps to Lowtown Cinnamon froze, not wanting to turn around. She had a feeling she knew what he would say, and she did not wish to hear it. Her stomach sank as Fenris spoke, his rough voice laced with sorrow and resignation.

"Hawke."

"Fenris please, don't..."

Forcing herself to do what she did not want to, Cinnamon closed her lips and turned her head as Fenris approached her, sincerity and sadness written into his features.

"Cannella, what that noble said... If not for your pity, we would not be friends."

His words caused something within Hawke to snap, and she spun around, taking the last few steps to close the gap between them. Face to face with the startled elf Cinnamon raised her hand- And gently rested it behind her own head, fingers lacing in her hair tightly.

"Is that why you believe I stay near you Fenris, because I pity you?"

The elf did not move, did not reply, and yet Cinnamon could already read the answer thatwrote itself across his features. _Yes._ Instantly, the anger died, and sadness replaced it.

"Why do you... Why do all of you... I can not take this anymore. You, and everyone else, act like I am better then you. You act like I am worth more, or that you are beneath me. Why? You, Isabela, Merrill, Anders- Just, why?"

Tears rolled down Cinnamon's cheeks as she turned from Fenris, having walked in a small line before stopping and tilting her face towards the elf. Anguish showed so clearly on her face, and she could see she had once more startled him. But now her words had been started, they flowed mercilessly.

"Look at me... I'm an apostate and until three years ago, that Ser Tristan would not have even given me the time of day. I am scarred, I am broken, I am damaged goods and everyone around me dies. Why do you keep telling me that I am better then you, when if you were to ever leave me behind, there would be nothing left for me to live for?"

Taking a step towards Fenris she reached out, and as he was still too shocked to move, her fingers caressed his cheek softly, a faint smile brushing her lips. This time when she spoke her words were spoken in that familiar tone, and her tears began to slow.

"I do not care if you an elf, a human, a dwarf or hell, even a darkspawn- I do not love you for what you are, but who. So stop insisting I should leave you, all of you, and go sleep with Ser Tristan because I'd rather be made tranquil."

Just as quickly as she came she left, turning to continue on their path towards Lowtown and the only tavern she ever visited. After a moment Fenris raised his hand to touch where hers had been, a smile reach over the elf's features. She had let her true feelings slip, and he knew it.

Slowly he followed his apostate, the smile yet to fade from the ex-slave's features.


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 6)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: Isabela, Merrill, Anders, Varric, murderers, Fenris and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

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><p>"May I please have my hands back?"<p>

"Nope."

"Sorry lethallan, just a little longer..."

With a exaggerated sigh Cinnamon slumped on the Hanged Man's table, her chin resting on it's dirty surface whilst both arms were held up high. One was grasp by a shipless pirate, while the other was held by a dalish mage. Both held paintbrushes in their hands, and they spared no inch of the noble apostate's long sleeves which she had jokingly told them to decorate with whatever they desired.

Cinnamon was now regretting her joke.

"So, what are you planning to do lethallan, seeing as you haven't been doing a lot of anything lately. Oh, are you going someplace secret? Do you keep secrets from us?"

"Of course she does kitten, she's a noble. All nobles are secret keepers! Luckily, I know the way into her home, and the place where she hides her journal..."

Repeating her previous notion Hawke looked towards her dwarven friend for help. Finding no sympathy she spared a glance at firstly Anders, then Fenris. The former seemed far to interested in what lies Isabela was now spreading about her, and the latter was busy attempting to see the colourful paintings both the pirate and dalish were designing. It seemed like another job for Cinnamon to solve herself.

They had been at the Hanged Man all the previous night, then most of the day. Now, as evening set, Cinnamon debated returning home. Fenris had stuck with her, and crashed in Varric's room just as she had. But now Cinnamon knew her tiny holiday was over, and it would be back to saving the helpless and needy. Before she could announce her need to leave however, Merrill sat back with a smile. Various colours were splattered on her hands and face and yet Cinnamon had never seen her young friend so happy with herself.

"Done. I hope you like it lethallan."

Lifting her head up just slightly, and retrieving her right hand in the process, Cinnamon glanced down towards the fresh paint on her brownish grey sleeve. And as a smile stretched across her lips, Cinnamon couldn't help but chuckle slightly.

In a variety of hues and dyes Merrill had re-designed Cinny's family crest- Then added a touch of Dalish blood writing patterns to it. The end result was simply breath-taking, as the entire thing spanned all of Cinnamon's right sleeve. Before the noble mage could thank her friend however, the other painter piped up.

"Ah ha! All finished, and I have to say, it's pretty awesome."

Turning her head, Hawke raised an eyebrow at Isabela even as the pirate took a swig of her drink and pushed Cinny's left arm towards her, eager for her to see. Glancing down, Cinnamon blinked, then let out a laugh. What Isabela had drawn was really, what she herself wanted the most- A ship on a sea of deep blues and greys, lashed by skies of orange, red and purple. Isabela had managed to cover all of Hawke's left sleeve with such a scene too.

"These are both... Amazing. Thank you, both of you. Really."

Smiling as Isabela gently punched her arm, and Merrill hugged her tightly, Cinnamon couldn't help but chuckle. Sometimes, being her was so very worth it, for all the friends she had. Looking up she met Fenris's gaze, her smile copied lightly onto him as he watched her. Hawke never seemed so happy.

He worried that it would not last long, a thought that caused the elf to try and memorize her near constant smile.

It was at that point that the door to the Hanged Man burst open, and the whole table looked up towards the frantic, heavily breathing boy at the door- All, except Cinnamon, whom simply sighed. Very gently she touched the paint, checking to see if it was dr, and upon finding it was, slowly stood. Staff held once more in her right hand she navigated the table and stood, watching as the boy approached her quickly.

"You're looking for me I presume?"

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><p>Silence, ensured by Darktown's stench and filth, was the only reward Cinnamon was finding for venturing so far down into such a pit. Ander's and Varric's heated debate about Isabela's 'friendfictions' had began to get on the noble apostate's nerves, something that rarely happened- But it was only because Cinny had not a clue what they meant, or why they kept shooting looks at her. What could Isabela possibly be writing about her?<p>

Rubbing her head at the possibilities that popped up Cinnamon sighed, leading the way through one of the side passages of the Undercity. This was the way the young boy had pointed them, telling Hawke that someone needed her help desperately. Why her Cinnamon did not know, but the closer to their destination they got the hard it got to deny the unease in her gut.

That, coupled with the little voice in Hawke's mind that whispered for her to run because something wasn't right, made the mage a little agitated.

"Something on your mind Hawke?"

Going a few shades paler in pure surprise at the sound of a familiar elf in her ear Cinnamon glanced sideways, smiling faintly at the curious male.

"Just nothing. A small feeling, something stupid..."

Her voice faded away as she spotted the look in Fenris's eyes, one that caused the mage to simply sigh in resignation. Why, of all the people in Thedas, could she not resist this elf's silent queries and requests? It would be the death of her for sure.

"That boy, his light... In every human, elf or even dwarf, their connection to the Fade shines like a candle. For most it is dim, because they only visit it when they sleep, so their connection is not strong. For mages, it is a little brighter. For those who dabble with demons or spirits, the light is like someone lit a roaring woodfire within.

But that boy, his light was... Different. Brighter somehow, like that of a mages, and yet I can sense no essence of tapped mana within, nor any actual life. It's odd."

Silence floated between them, the whispered voices of Varric and Anders reaching Cinnamon's ears and cursing her with curiousity. But Fenris broke the peace once more, his silently intelligent mind jumping to a question Hawke hadn't thought he'd consider.

"Can all mages see this, this 'Light of the Fade?' I have never heard of such a thing before."

A little surprised at the question Hawke glanced over, a frown fuzzling her brow before sea blue eyes floated back to the path ahead.

"From what I know, no. Father used to tell me I was unique in that way, because in all his years he'd never heard anything like it. I think...I think it scared him. I think I, scared him sometimes..."

Though she tried to hold it back, sadness touched the ends of her words and for a moment her smile slipped. Memories she tried to suppress pressed at her consciousness, and the mage couldn't bring herself to met Fenris's concerned gaze. It was however, his words that broke the silence.

"I'm not afraid of you Cannella."

Fenris was rewarded for his kindness- A smile once more coloured Hawke's features, and she sent a look of pure happiness his way, one that he found himself relishing. She never smiled that way to anyone else.

"I'm glad."

The conversation may have continued if the last corner had not come into their path, and Cinnamon hadn't noticed it. Raising her hand gently she signaled to Varric and Anders to be silent before leading the way around the corner slowly. Now that she was no longer distracted by Fenris, Cinnamon could feel it in the air. The scent of death was far stronger then anything she'd smelt before.

And as the bend was passed, Cinnamon found why.

Bodies lay scattered across the ground, their eyes open and terror plain on their faces. The sight alone would have caused the bile that rose in Cinnamon, but it was not they that made the mage freeze. It was the abomination who stood over them, slowly turning as Varric cursed and reached for his crossbow as Anders and Fenris did the same.

Unable to move or look away, Hawke felt the tingle of magic on the nape of her neck, foreign and wrong- The abomination had cast a ward, blocking their only exit. In a flash her barriers were up to, protecting her mind and the minds of her companions just in case. She could not tell what kind fo demon it was. As though on a que the demon took a few steps towards them, a morbid smile corrupting it's features even as it extended a deformed hand.

"Why, you are the Hawke I sent the dead child for. So very... Interesting. You do not seem so powerful and invincible as they claimed one like yourself was."

Though it's voice was silky and smooth, it only caused fear to ripple down Cinnamon's arms as it addressed her.

"Of what corruption do you show, and why are you here demon?"

A laugh coursed through it, causing the demon to shake, and beside her Fenris withdrew his sword. Without thought Hawke put her hand on his shoulder, stopping him from charging it.

"I am a demon of sloth- But don't fear me little mortals. I simply wish to help you relax. You all look so tired..."

Already Cinnamon could feel it's pull, and her companions could too. Varric stifled a yawn even as Anders flashed blue, Justice attempting to shield the mage against the spell. Strengthening her barrier Cinnamon grimaced, the probing mana of the demon pressing powerfully on her. The pure power generated by the freshly slaughtered was overpowering, and even Anders with Justice was having trouble rejecting it.

Once more the abomination laughed, appraised the group with alluring eyes, watching as Fenris began to sway and Hawke herself blinked forcefully. Rejecting the spell once more the noble apostate took a step forwards, a growl forming on her lips.

"You will not take us, demon of sloth."

But even as the words left her lips, Cinnamon knew she was wrong. As the world began to blur beneath her fluttering eyelids she felt herself stumble, her knees buckling. As though someone pushed down upon her Hawke slid to the cool ground, staff tumbling from her dead fingers. The last thing heard by the mage was the velvet voice of the demon, a mocking tone laced in it's words.

"But you wish to sleep so much little spirit. So do... It won't hurt you to sleep..."


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 7)

Game: Dragon Age 2

Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils

Characters/pairing: The three wise spirits and Cinnamon Hawke

Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:

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><p>Within the Fade, time was more of a concept then a reality. It technically did not exist. Years could pass in seconds, or seconds in years, but only to the outside world. To those in the Fade, time was yet another concept they could bend to their will, to break those beneath their command.<p>

But to Cinnamon, who knew the truth, it was still an annoying concept. Even as she sat, leaning against the stump of a tree floating in the empty space of the Fade, Cinnamon knew only minutes had past. But when one waits for something to occur, minutes drag into hours. And when one isn't sure what exactly they are waiting for, hours drag into days and even weeks.

A small sigh left the brown haired mage, for the last time counting the scars on her legs and arms had lead her to come to the conclusion that long sleeves were the best option once more. She was waiting for someone, or ones. But time was a fickle thing, and now she found herself worrying.

Fingers tapped against legs as Cinnamon let out another sigh, eyes trained on her bare feet that had only moments ago been shoed.

"I hope Fenris is alright."

_"He is. They all are. For now. You on the other hand..."_

The words shocked Cinnamon, and like a well practiced routine she stood and spun around, hands held out ready to strike. They lowered quicker at the sight before her, heart filling with hope.

"Spirits..."

_"Cannella. It has been a while."_

"Can you help me?"

Talking a step towards the three hovering figures in fonrt of her, Cinnamon's mind raced. She recognised two of the three- One was the Spirit of Kindness, with a short summer dress and feminine but elven features. Another, the one that spoke, was a Spirit of Compassion, standing tall in a genderless appearance of control and knowledge. The last however Cinnamon had not met- It appeared to be a he, but it wore Templar armour and helmet. She could not see his face.

However, it was the back half of her mind that noticed all of it. The front half was busy worrying.

_"Demons have your friends Cannella. We only just managed to pull you from the one that grasped you- You did not suffer their fate. It means though, only you can save them."_

It sounds like some stupid heroic story, where the heroine had to save her friends from the clutches of evil demons. But this was no fairy tale, and Cinnamon was no hero- Just a messed up mage with the oddest friends. And already she could tell something was wrong, the worry tainting her voice.

"But, there is more."

It was now that the third spirit, the one a shining suit of armour spoke, his voice booming and yet, foreboding.

_"The demons that have taken your friends are more powerful then I... We, thought."_

Like a lightening bolt it hit Cinnamon as to who the last spirit was, and why he seemed so familiar. Fear churned through her gut, and a hand hovered above her mouth, feet moving one step forwards on their own accord.

"Justice?" With a quiet, shaking voice the magelet blinked once more, watching the spirit for emotions that is don't exist. "But, if you are here, and not with Anders... Then the demons..."

_"...Are powerful enough to separate us, yes. And will be more powerful, if they convince your friends to give them a foothold."_

Her fingers shook but Cinnamon didn't care, blue eyes flickering between spirits as she tried to understand. It wasn't that the concept of the situation alluded her, but what she could do. As though guessing her unvoiced question Justice spoke once more, the rage he held when speaking through Anders no longer present.

_"Demons will appease to their better will. We can help you a little, but it will be your word against theirs, like with that half-blood boy Fenyriel. They can change you and the world around them- Your words against their 'reality'."_

A solemn air forced itself into the Fade and Hawke felt it on her lips. The spirits said not a word, and for a moment she was lost- Until her mind slowly connected, shaking off the last tendrils of sleep the Demon of Sloth had placed on her.

"Then I'll pick my words carefully. Can you get me to them?"

A smile past on the face of Kindness. But no matter the support there, the looks in the eyes of Justice distilled Hawke, and she frowned at him. After a moment he spoke again, eyes a light upon the magelet.

_"We can show you the way. But Cannella..."_

There he paused and Compassion slid in, it's eyes both sorrowful and proud.

_"But every action has a price."_

Without a moment's thought Cinnamon spoke, fire in her heart, words and eyes. "I don't care. I must try."

Once more a collective smile past over the group- But it was Justice that offered his hand, a door appearing behind him. The others stepped aside as Cinnamon reached out, faintly surprised she met something solid upon accepting the offered limb.

_"Come. They can not last long."_

Nodding Cinnamon let Justice lead the way, her bare feet making no noise on the absent floor of the Fade. The anticipation of what might occur next made her stomach turn and flicker in it's own wariness, making her gut feel like it was to become mabari meat.

The faint question of what she would lose however, continued to hover just in mind as Cinnamon opened the first door, and disappeared inside.


	9. Chapter 9

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 9)  
>Game: Dragon Age 2<br>Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils  
>Characterspairing: Desire demon, Karl, Anders, Ander's mother, Justice, Ser Pouncealot and Cinnamon Hawke  
>Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:<br>I am so sorry that I have not updated for nearly a month- about three days away. Please, do not skewer my eyes out with tweezers. Thank you.

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><p>As the light faded, and the spots in Cinnamon's vision left, it became obvious to the magelet that she was no longer in the neutral zone of the Fade. Maybe it was the fact trees sprouted up all around her, so dense that she couldn't see further then an arm's reach. Or maybe it was the fact she could hear other life, like birds and crickets, and that the fresh smells that greeted her gently.<p>

Either way, it threw Hawke off for a moment. Never had an illusion within the Fade been so...convincing. Breeze fluttered across her skin, playing on her bare flesh, and for a moment the mage examined her surroundings.

It then occurred to Cinnamon that she had no bare skin showing for the wind to play on. A glance down at herself however corrected that train of thought.

She wore no shoes, and her clothes were rags, barely there. Shreds of a shirt covered her chest, leaving her abdomen bare and what was once a skirt hugged her legs, stopping mid thigh. Her feet bare, skin caked in dirt and mud, old scars still covering her body and hair an unruly mess of twigs and filthy locks, it made the mage appear mindless, wild. Cinnamon was sure she would not be able to recognise herself.

Opening her mouth to speak however, it caused the mage to pause, the air in her own throat choking her when no words came out. Once more she tried, and once more her voice box closed, unwilling to speak. An unreal sensation ran over her leg and Cinny remembered her spirit companion

_"The Demon here is that of Desire and has thus made you exactly what people do not desire-Mute, wild and probably feral. Be on your guard."_

Blinking in surprise Cinnamon glanced towards her friend-and then down.

Though her entire appearance had been changed, and her voice taken, Hawke was pretty sure her eyesight hadn't been lost. Otherwise, it had been replaced for that of a madman's, because what had just spoke with Justice's voice was really a cat. A cute tabby cat yes, but still that of a feline species. However as Cinnamon looked more closely she could see it's eyes glowered an unethereal blue and it spoke without moving it's mouth, a sigh the first thing leaving it under her examination.

_"Before Anders and I become one, he was given a gift by the Commander of the Grey. A tabby cat named something stupid..."_

Regardless of her current problem, Cinnamon couldn't help but giggle. That noise she could make, a pure sound running like water from pale lips. Beside her was a Fade cat meant to represent the lost pet of her friend. How on Thedas it would help her was beyond Cinnamon's imagination. Sobering up quickly at the thought she glanced ahead, looking down the path that lay ahead of them. In the distance the sound of voices rose with the smell of smoke accompany.

The weight of the impossible crashed against Hawke and she held her hands against her heart, worry etched into that peaceful face. Cinnamon knew better then anyone that the number of Ander's regrets were many and important. If the desire demon was strong enough to trick such a mage like him, separate Justice and imprison them both here, then it would be able to dig deep within Ander's mind and find said regrets.

What could one girl do against that? One wild, undesirable girl against everything one could ever want?

_"If you truly care, start now before Anders goes further. I will be close, and come when time calls for such an act. You are his only hope."_

Unbelieving Cinnamon glanced at Justice-but nothing she could say, even if she could speak, would put her thoughts right. So instead she stared at Justice, waiting for a reply of some sorts, a continuation of explanation.

_"Convince Anders to trust you, and take your hand. Not by force, but by his own will. It would be like him turning down the demon's offer. It's what you must do with all of them. Now go."_

Steeling herself with a breath and nod Hawke glanced back towards the smoke, her feet taking her towards it. Behind her, Justice disappeared, dissipating into the wind's playful tune even as the magelet began to calmly panic inside her mind.

Walking without a sense of direction quickly tired Hawke out. But after only a few minutes she smelt the smoke more strongly then before-not that of a bush fire either but more woody, a hint of something baked laced within. Following her nose now, it was soon enough that the magelet found what she was looking for.

A clearing, beautiful and hidden from the world, surrounded by a ring of trees. Standing on the very edge, a shadow of an outcast from such a tranquil place, Cinnamon stole a breath. This was bad, for her at least. Near her sat a tiny pond, whilst beside it a stone cottage that emitted the smoke. The voices came from the house, and as Cinnamon watched, the door swung open only a few metres away and two figures came tumbling out, another leaning against the doorway.

One man, tall with grey hair and beard and yet a youthful appearance, laughed as he stumbled into the clearing's embrace. Cinnamon instantly recognised his face-Karl, the mage that Anders had asked her to save when they first met. No mark of tranquility touched his forehead, no emotionless stare painted him dumb. Behind him, a tallish blond woman stood in the doorway, hazel eyes appraising the situation. A kind smile painted her lips and a dish of fresh food lay in her hands, and instantly Hawke saw the family connections between her and Anders. His mother. Her throat went dry however, as the magelet spotted the one she was meant to convince.

Anders looked nothing like he did back in Kirkwall. His eyes were alight with jokes and wrinkles didn't plague his face. Clean shaven, with all his hair pulled back into a ponytail, Hawke could see an earring in his right ear. Both mages wore simply clothes, not robes. Both seemed happy, careless. Safe.

A sense of sorrow crept into Cinnamon's heart, one that told her to simply leave him be. Ignoring it, and all other thoughts, the magelet took her first step into the glade itself.

The step, not the ignoring of the thoughts, would be her only mistake.

Ice leapt up her body, trapping the magelet in the spot where she had stepped. Too late had she seen the Glyph, one of the winter spell-Now a sense of deja vu plagued her mind even as the coldness seeped into her bare flesh, multiple lacerations already draining the blood that rushed to warm her touched skin. Panic spread through Hawke, for with one arm trapped by her side and the other scratching away until her fingers began to bleed, it left the mage very vulnerable. A moments glance up let blue eyes fall upon the advancing males, the woman following at a distance. Spotting not the flickers of a fire spell, but that of lightening, caused Cinnamon to release a sound of fear-for the wielder wasn't the friendly face of the one she had to rescue. And death in the Fade meant her friends would never be free.

It also meant Cinnamon would wake up as a Tranquil. Or maybe, not wake up at all.

Her blood began to run down the ice, liquefied by the droplets of water, and yet her actions began to cease as she found herself watching Karl and Anders approach. One seemed angry, more then simply fury at someone intruding-more along the lines of mad at someone threatening their plans. But it was Ander's face she gazed at, and all that was there was caution. Knowing better then to cast a spell and give the two reasons to hurt her Cinnamon simply tilted her head, blue eyes never leaving Anders, trying to appear calmer then the speeding heart inside let on.

"When I put the Glyph up, I never expected anyone to actually set it off. Why is it here?" The voice of Karl seemed off to Cinnamon-a vibration undertone, one that resonated around the entire clearing. It seemed however, that only she noticed, for Anders simply raised an eyebrow and laughed gently, his eyes swinging from her to Karl then back.

"If you haven't noticed my friend, it is a she. And she doesn't appear entirely comfortable with her position either."

Concern, real and slightly urgent, touched the edge of his last words as, for some almost unknown reason, the ice began to grow inwards. Karl's hands glowed very softly, and Cinnamon felt tears spring to her eyes, her teeth pressed against her lip so hard she nearly bleed from there too.

"Well I can't let her go can I? She obviously working with them, the Templars-" he spat out the name like a bad taste, his grey bearded face contorting almost inhumanly "-and means to take you away. There is only one solution."

This time there was no holding it back. A cry slid from Cinnamon's lips even as she shut her eyes tightly and bent her head, trying to muffle it. For with Karl's last words the ice sprang up with sudden fieriness, covering the rest of her left arm and most of her pale chest. Near mindless with pain Cinnamon grabbed at the ice with her free hand, attempting to rip it from her and relieve herself. It hurt worse then before, before when they had helped Fenris with the Hadrianna and the slavers. Finally Ander's concern showed on his face and he took a step forwards, merciful heat rising into outstretched palms.

"For Andraste's sake Karl what is wrong with you? Free her or she'll die!"

"Karl is simply trying to save you Anders dear. He doesn't want to lose you- I don't." The third figure had approached and it was it that spoke, the vibrating, seductive tone encouraging the goosebumps on Cinnamon's arms. "Please my son, just let her go." Her pleas, to the magelet's ears at least, sounded like more then simple advice about a stranger.

Yet none of it stopped Ander's, for regardless of their persuasion the sight of a pained person overtook everything within him. It only took mere seconds for the fire to beat the ice surrounding her, and when the loud crack of a break appearing in the sweating ice resonated around the clearing Cinnamon gave a small sound of joy. It was cut short however as the ice completely shattered and the magelet fell backwards, her frozen legs unable to support her. Hitting the ground with a thud Cinnamon scrabbled to her shaking legs, once more in the shade of the ring of the trees, watching a wary Anders with his hand still extended towards her. Karl gave a near inhuman hiss, stepping forwards only to be held back by Ander's mother, his face contorted in anger.

"Now you're free, get out of here. You are unwanted, so leave."

Blinking her blue eyes at them, Cinnamon did nothing of the sort-instead the wild, mute girl watched Anders with such a hopefully, open face, one that stirred an emotion deep inside. Doubt. Beside him his own mother felt it, and opened her mouth to spew lies to stop that train of thought. But everything was silenced at the sound of a single, inhuman noise.

_"Meow?"_

The girl in front of him, not much younger then he, gave a small jump of surprise as a tabby cat crawled up her back, most certainly digging it's claws into her still semi-frozen skin just to do so, and curled around her neck. Blue eyes like that the girl supported stared right at Anders, piercing him, and yet the girl simply smiled. His mother's words and Karl's faded away as she smiled at him, raising her slightly shaking hand in an invitation and acceptance of her own. As the ice left her so did the mud and dirt, leaving a face that seemed somewhat familiar to Anders behind.

_"Meow."_

A purr kicked up from the cat as Anders took a step forwards, the world around him fading as the colour dripped away like dissolving ice. Gently he took the hand offered and a breath of relief flooded out of the magelet, the smile growing ever bigger. A flash of blue caused them both to blink rapidly and caused Anders to pull the hand he held closer.

When all had cleared, Cinny found herself in the arms of her friend, and the spirit of Justice standing before them. Reaching up to rub her throat, Hawke could only watch, her voice very slowly creeping back, as Justice nodded at Anders and motioned for him to follow.

"You are safe now Anders. Come along."

Flashing her friend and teacher a confident smile she held his hand one last time, squeezing it tight before letting the mage go. As the blond haired male disappeared in another flash of blue Cinnamon felt the crushing feeling of worry lifting, if just for a second.

Then ghost hands laid themselves on her shoulders and a voice pressed against her ear, no hot breath teasing her skin and yet noise reaching her mind.

_"Come now sister-one down, two to go."_

With the faintest of smiles Cinnamon nodded even as the world, as empty as it was, began to fade in bright white lights, and her thoughts turned to what would happen next.


	10. Chapter 10

Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 10)  
>Game: Dragon Age 2<br>Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils  
>Characterspairing: A spirit of Kindness, people I won't mention because it would spoil it, and Cinnamon Hawke.  
>Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. And a few of the spirits. And Freddick, the unsuspecting cheesewheel. Enjoy c:<p>

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><p>Rain fell with a certain heaviness, clattering on the rooftops of Kirkwall's richest and oldest homes. It hid beneath the night sky, a veil of clouds suffocating any chance of reprieve. No one in their right minds would wander the streets of Hightown tonight-not that there was anyone to own a mind living within. It was all just an illusion, a show put on for an audience of one. It did not matter though. It still felt like home.<p>

Cinnamon on the other hand, who had no choice but to be outside in the chilling weather, was pretty sure she still within the mind that was rightfully hers. Having had to fight down a wave of nausea before she'd even registered that it was her city-or at least, a good image of the city-the mage was a little preoccupied. The fact that she was being dragged backwards via her outstretched arms by a pair of City Guards, ones that metal march never seemed to cease, did have a habit of taking priority in one's mind. It brought on a small feeling of despair that added to the growing worry in her heart and the thumping in her head as many more smaller things become apparent to the mage-like the fact she wore urchin rags, stuck to her gritty skin like watered paper, and that her head had seemingly taken a blow to it. A throbbing in her left temple and a very nearly swollen shut left eye painted the image of a street thief or pickpocket quite well. The constant movement did nothing to help her, but when neither guard seemed like slowing down she shut her lips firmly to hold the warmth in.

Where were they taking her? Whose mind had such a vivid image been drawn from? Or for? And what sort of demon had created such a thing? Anyone who had made such detail from nothing would be proud of such achievements, that was for sure. Maybe that was a hint-a Pride Demon would take great pleasure in constructing this place of artwork. Cinnamon knew she would have. But with only her two friends left, which of them would bother to appreciate the view?

Any more consideration was cut short as their destination was apparently reached. The event was punctuate by the fact that the hands that held her let go, letting the noble apostate/common thief fall backwards onto the ground with a heavy thud. A hand quickly grasped her arm, stopping her even if she thought to run, and turning the magelet around and up onto her knees. A quick scan told Cinnamon this was not a street she was familiar with-then again, the mage was too busy taking care of other people's problems to really fully search Hightown. So where was she?

It was then Hawke's crystal blue eyes fell upon the symbol of the clan, which owned the mansion they had stopped in front of, a banner that fluttered almost innocently in the soaking wind.

"Tethras..."

**"Wait here with the girl- I'll disturbed the family. They won't be pleased."**

With a menacing chuckle pointed towards Hawke, one of the guards turned and strode towards the door, knocking twice and stepping back as it opened. Warmth touched their faces before the light was stolen, and Cinnamon was left alone with the last guard, the one whose hand still held her neck. A moment of silence past between them-before the guard chuckle and yawned, a small noise of disgruntlement echoing out as rain splatted on it's face.

_"I thought he'd never leave. It was only by luck I managed to convince that demon not to beat you to death Sister-you need to find better entrances, not that you had a choice mind you. There is a reason we spirits decided not to become demons Sister, remember that."_

Surprise washed over Cinnamon like a flood, her head whipping up to blink rapidly against the rain at the faintly glowing form of her friend. The Spirit of Kindness. It-she, looked bemused, and yet worry tainted her elfish features. A flash of a smile encouraged Hawke, and herself.

"Please tell me that the demon that has Varric is not Pride." A moment's pause confirmed her fears, and Cinny let the silence go on as her mind raced with doubts and half-formed plans, ones that hoped to solve this problem. When a warm hand rested on her shoulder she paused, glancing back up towards a faintly smiling Kindness.

_"There is also a reason why these mortals follow you, Cannella, and it isn't just for the stories and good looks. Pride can give Varric what he and it thinks he wants-but what can replace the two things he loves the most?"_

Their moment was up, for at that moment the door flew open and Cinnamon was brought back to the reality of the time. In the doorway, hidden from the unkind weather, stood an aged dwarf woman that Cinnamon knew was Lady Ilsa- Varric's mother. Next to her an infamous face glared- Bartand's image had changed little in this illusion of safety, and yet the magelet instantly realised this was the Pride Demon, hiding in a brilliant facade. Two more males and another female dwarf, maybe relatives, servants or friends, waited to see who disturbed them at such an hour. But it was not those dwarves that Cinnamon had come to save.

Her friend, her joking, storytelling, roguish friend stood on the other side of his grey haired mother, brown eyes watching her with mirth and caution. His clothes she recognised as rich, dwarven noble attire, not to mention the jewelry that complimented any empty places. The same Varric but different in many ways. For one, he did not seem to realise who she was. Then again, who would?

Beside him stood the guard demon, one that indicated for Kindness to drag the thief closer. The act once more back on the spirit grasped Cinnamon's hair, pulling the noble apostate towards the warmth of the dry interior. A few steps away however Kindness let go, letting Hawke fall back to the ground, so soaked by now that she felt neither rain nor cold seeping through her. A hand pulled her up to her knees, to face the family at nearly eye level, blue eyes upon brown. Staring at Varric she almost missed the words of the guard demon, one who was seemingly unwilling to step back out into the rain.

**"We caught this mongrel stealing from patrons in a Lowtown tavern. She claims to know your son Lady Ilsa."**

"So you disturbed up with such a petty matter?" Lady Ilsa's words were colder then the heavy rain and they sent shivers down Cinnamon's spine, something that did not go unmissed by a certain brown eyed dwarf. A sigh left the Lady's lips as she indicated towards the magelet, an act that reminded the girl of a delicate woman pointing towards a murderer or rapist-or towards a pile of crap.

"Which of my sons does it claim to know?"

**"Your youngest son Lady Ilsa. We can take her away...unless my Lord approves of her wild claim "**

As if to point more emphasize upon the next actions of his words the guard reached out into the hailing weather. His hand grasped Cinnamon's arm, nails digging into her bare skin as he squeezed tightly. Giving a small sound of pain and surprise she jerked away only to have Kindness grab her and pull her to her feet, an act that put some distance between Hawke and the demon. With a sneer he turned back to the dwaves, triumph ready to leap onto his lips. They all seemed to be waiting on Varric to step up and saying something-but even as Cinnamon met his eyes, she knew with a sinking feeling he was only waiting for dramatic purposes, not for thoughts.

"I'm sorry mother, but I have never met or even seen this girl before. I do not talk with thieves."

One guard, obviously pleased by the outcome, began to babble apologise to Lady Ilsa, whilst the other glanced down at her sister with worry. But Cinnamon did not notice, her eyes resting upon Varric with a sorrow unbridled by her normal barriers. A thought occurred, in that instant, to Cinnamon-what was the two things he loved the most?

"No. You simply pin them to the walls of Hightown with Bianca."

Though her voice was quiet against the loud landings of rain it was heard. A wave of different emotions spread across the group, numbing the sharp silence just a tad. Most looked at her in surprise, Kindness in happy realisation, Lady Ilsa in impatient disapprove and Varric...

And Varric in shock and doubt; doubt for himself.

Silence grew until Kindness coughed, her voice carrying out like a moment of reason among madness.

_"I think, My Lady Ilsa, that your son my need sometime alone with this young woman to sort this out. A moment inside?"_

The power of Kindness's words was a beacon of understanding, for with a glance at her son Lady Ilsa agreed. Reluctant but forced, the last guard accepted an invitation inside, disappearing down the hallway of the mansion with the rest of the group. Before Kindness left too she offered Cinnamon a wink, a hint of hope before she too was gone.

Alone, it was a contradiction-A raggedy thief facing noble dwarf. One outside in the cold, wet downpour, one inside in the warmth of a mansion where fires roared like warriors. And yet Cinnamon watched Varric with her kind face, scars and bruises bared for all to see.

"Who are you?" His voice held so many emotions they would have made Cinnamon flinch in pity-awe, doubt, confusion. But she only smiled, refusing to move at all as she watched her first Kirkwaller friend forget her.

"I am Cinnamon-Cinnamon Hawke. You called me Lady Spice, though that title was dropped whenever your stories were told."

"How do you know me?"

His questions were fired so fast after her own answers that Cinnamon nearly tripped over her tongue. But the magelet replied calmly even as the dwarf moved to the edge of dry safety.

"You were meant to go on a Deep Road expedition-You, Bartrand, and many hirelings. Lucrative and insane they said, but you went anyway-"

"That expedition was a success. Me and Bartrand came by rich men, happy men."

"Happy for what? Since when did you get enjoyment from relaxing at home, being called My Lord, do nothing and gaining nothing but a fat belly and no excitement?"

"Who are you to talk to me in such a way?"

His voice shock with emotions meant to scare her, that smooth voice rising as brown eyes blazing in anger and...doubt. She could see he remembered, in the back of his mind. Because Pride had given him things built upon what it thought any dwarf had-Dwarven Pride. But it had lost Varric himself.

"Do you remember Varric, an embellished crossbow? Could have been Mirabelle but the name was taken. Bianca you called her, and she gave you the thing you cherished most."

Now her eyes sparkled and a grin touched her bloodied lip, and Cinnamon found herself unable to keep the hope and love, love for a friend, out of her tone.

"Bianca gave you stories to tell, and I gave you a reason to tell them. There is a question Varric, that you must ask yourself, of what do you want more; a life of adventure, stories and oddity friends or one of leisure, gold and backstabbing merchants guild members?"

Gently now she took a step back and raised her hand, inviting him into the rain. Not liking to the change of events the rain poured down harder, determined not to lose another victim. But Varric's mind was made up-and as the dwarf set a foot in the downpour he reached out, hand stretched towards hers. His hand grasped hers, as if afraid she'd disappear, and Cinnamon felt the rain ease and the world fade. Once more the illusion began to slip away like raindrops on thick skin, leaving the vast emptiness of the Fade behind it.

_"Never doubted you for a second Sister. You never give up."_

A smile flashed across Cinnamon's face, one of relief and hope as Varric turned in surprise, seeing Kindness for the first time. Having shed the illusion of a city guard she stood in her summer dress, eyes wide and smile wider, elvish features painting her innocent. Lifting her hand she offered it to Varric who let go of Cinnamon's and accepted with a dazed air about him.

Light with relief, Hawke watched the two fade, Kindness telling Varric not to worry as they slid from view. Silence pressed through the Fade until another form began to appear-the Spirit of Compassion was showing its face.

Then it hit Cinnamon. Fenris was the last one left to save. And it was not Pride keeping him, nor Desire. What was the one thing he hated the most, and the one emotion he radiated strongest?

_"Come Cannella, we have not much time."_

Not exactly given an option as Compassion had reached out and held the magelet in a half hug, Cinnamon could only blink as light began to filter in rapidly. Swallowing her worry she hoped, wished, pleaded that this next rescue would not end in the death of Fenris.

Or herself.


	11. Chapter 11

_Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 10)  
>Game: Dragon Age 2<br>Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils  
>Characterspairing: Fenris, the Spirit of Compassion, a Rage demon, other peons and Cinnamon Hawke  
>Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke. Enjoy c:<br>And please forgive me, it's been two months since I last posted, and I am so sorry. I am finally getting back into writing so the next will be quicker. Thank you so much for your paitence._

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><p>They were screaming. Loudly. To precisely tell who 'they' were, was impossible at the moment, but an unwanted suspicious grew on Cinnamon that those who were fighting and dying at the moment were mages. And the cause of such misery was a certain important elf.<p>

The little voice that told her to run was a strong one in Hawke about now. She ignored it, like all the other times, and instead continued to trek down the cavern's passage way, determination creased into the lines of her face. She was hindered by the mage slippers that covered her feet and the darkness. Even with the tiny light floating above her head, courtesy of Compassion, Hawke was finding it hard. The sense of dread that had continued to grow in her stomach didn't help much either.

Because there she was, walking through an underground tunnel towards the sounds of her kin dying at the hand of the one she loved, wearing exactly the same clothing of the ones he was killing. Cinnamon had seen the robes before- on sale in Hightown. Archon Robes they were called. Imported from Tevinter. Made of a silk-like fabric they looked more like extravagant noble wear then mage clothing. At least after she'd tossed away the stupid pointed hat, the attire was bareable. Regardless, they put the noble apostate in a horrid position of looking exactly like the enemy.

At any rate the demon had been kind enough to give her a staff.

Another cry of agony and anguish ripped through the passageway, reminding Cinnamon she was getting closer. One hand grasped the wooden staff tighter, the other slidding into the tiny bag that battered her moving thigh. Compassion was forced to flee- saying the demon here was primative but very, very strong- but she'd been able to hand the magelet one item that might help her before flittering away, sadly taking most of the light with her. Now Hawke held it for reasurrence, unaware of what is was but knowing it had to be useful somehow. However regardless of what it was, she had to be wary that if she didn't subdue Fenris, she'd never live long enough to use it.

Hawke rounded the last corner, and any more thoughts disappeared upon the sight that greeted her. The dread she'd been trying to fight so hard came back in a shock wave, and Cinnamon did nothing to contest it. On the other side of the cavern room stood Fenris, abundent glee colouring his face as he hacked and slashed all and any mage near him. A near constant stream of morbidly excited enemies flooded towards him, some cast spells from afar, some aiming for hand to hand. Each time one fell they faded away, disapating into the ground, as another appeared at the back of the pack. An ever constant game. A massacre. And Cinnamon stood at the very edge of it, uncertain of how to deal with it. Even she could feel the power of the Rage Demon from where she stood, the one that had sent Compassion running. A single question sprung to her mind, one that let the noble apostate's shoulder droop: How could one forgotten mage beat the most basic of all emotions?

_"If you truly care, start now..."_ Justice's words came back to her, a faded voice that hushed the fearful one in her head. With a tiny, determine nod, the magelet stepped out of the fire and into the frying pan.

Brown light flared in Cinnamon's hand instantly as she picked up speed, her agile body letting her slip past the advancing mages. Her clothing made a perfect disguise, though Hawke was still forced to dodge fireballs and ice bolts as they were sent over her head. At the rate she was moving, all Cinnamon would have to worry about would be trying to save Fenris convincingly.

However, as it was for all Hawkes, no good luck lasted long.

Her presense had been detected. Not in an obvious way, for none of the surrounding mages turning their bloodlusted gaze upon her, but Hawke could feel the atmosphere in the cavern begin to tilt. It slid from simple need to feed, to a need to consume and finish. Cinnamon had officially run out of time.

Acting without thought, the little magelet stopped, turned towards a crazed Blood Mage that had began to charge up a powerful and deadly spell for Fenris, and sent the first spell that came to mind flying from her fingers. Caught in her surprisingly powerful Telekinetic Burst, the mage- along with a fair few others- flew up and away from the noble apostate as she continued to run towards the elf that mattered the most. A few more crossed her path but, with a determination as strong as her own, they did not last long. Bursting through the thick ring of mages Hawke's head shot up, and blue eyes met surprised green for a split second, only two strides between them. The mages had paused for some reason, but Cinnamon knew they would be right behind her soon. Regardless, relief flooded her at spotting an nearly unhurt Fenris.

But any happiness was stalled as something exploded behind Hawke, a powerful spell center right behind her body. The shockwave caught both her and Fenris, slamming them both into the wall with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. Cinnamon's ears rung as she slid to the ground, back pressed against the solid wall as she tried to shake the spotted blurs from her vision. Someone reached for her, from a distance away, and a sudden wave of numbness washed over Hawke. It was the end. Her limbs refused to work- to move and pick herself up- while blood rolled down her face and neck to colouring the pale mage as she lay there, vunerable. She could do nothing, as the hand of what she could now see was the rage demon, descended upon her.

And then Fenris was there, in front of her, clashing with anyone who came close. Glancing back he shouted words at her, but while Cinnamon's vision had cleared her ears had not- The deep centered ringing vibrated somewhere within her brain. The magelet extended a hand behind herself, letting it crawl up the wall to find a handhold. Pain stabbed from every side but Hawke pulled herself up, leaning back against the clay as she surveyed the scene. Everything felt like it was going in slow motion. Mages continued to launch their attacks Fenris and the elf continued to block as best he could, but even a disorientated Cinnamon could see he was struggling. Her time to act was now.

Magic trickled into her fingers, that which came from the very last of her reserves, and as she turned around to face the wall she let it gather. Behind her the sounds of battle faded as Cinnamon let her mind clear and let the magic swell, bubble and burn. And when it burst she sent the shockwave not outwards but in one direction, into the cavern wall.

The sound of her magic working echoed over the din of death and as a crack appeared in the clay, pulling the wall apart at a break that stretched to just above her head, Cinnamon spun around. Without a thought she grasped Fenris's shoulder, pulling him back just in time to avoid the daggered swipe of a mad opponent, and towards the gap. Shoving him in front of her the two disappeared inside just as the back half of their passage began to rush closed, and the despairing cries of losing mages was silenced.

Finally Cinnamon remembered how to breathe, and did so, letting a long sigh of relief escaping her lips.

With a small, tired smile painting the air around her, Hawke leant back against the freshly sealed wall, a hand that shook from fatigue rising to cast one last spell. As her small orb of light bathed the clay room in dim, orange light, Cinny closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the coolness of the moist dirt seeping through her thin robes in a relaxing manner. When the magelet's heart had once more fallen back to normal, she gave up stalling, took a step out of her leaning and relucantly opened her eyes.

They fell on the gaze of a cornered slave, one who's green glare burned with resentment, anger and most of all mistrust.

Fenris didn't say a word as he started towards her, body lighting up in a soft blue as powerful strides brought him closer within seconds. And yet Cinnamon didn't move, even as he fell upon her, one hand reaching out to grasp her throat and push her back with a rough edge against the wall she'd just been relaxing on. Automatically her hands flew up to grasp his fingers but she didn't pull as he didn't lift her, simply held her, stopping the mage from running or doing anything without the threat of pain. Her shy, awkard friend of four years was lost to a feral version as Fenris let his hatred of 'her kind' wash over the noble apostate, words forming through gritted teeth.

"Who are you, and why did you save me?"

Shadows, cast from the flickering orb that hovered inches from her head, played on the ex-slave's features as Cinnamon simply held his gaze, her face calm. Inside, her heart was screaming again, every sense in her body telling her to turn her magic upon this attacker. Knowing better then to try anything, even as Fenris's brilliant blue glow began to fade, Hawke simply blinked then bit her bottom lip, replying in a soft but quickly spoken voice.

"I am a friend. You don't remember me, but I know you Fenris. Pleas-"

His flat palm hit her harder then she expected, cutting her words off and spinning the magelet's face to one side. Teeth punctured skin by accident, and for a moment Cinnamon let herself remain still, blood rolling down her chin and her cheek burning in pain. A hand grasped her chin and pulled her back into focus, forcing her to meet the glare of a distant friend with her own pain riddled one.

"Do not use my name or that term. I've heard that lie a thousands times mage, it shall not work."

"You have to believe me- You are in the Fade, and you must trust m-"

"Ha!"

Roughly he shoved Cinnamon away, turning away from the mage as she slumped back against wall, sliding down just a little with one hand falling to cover a terrified heart. Stalking away Fenris let out another harsh laugh, the blue glow once more leaping to his skin like a dog returning to its master.

"You except me to believe I'd let a mage like you live long enough to be able to say that they know me without fear? Even if what you say is correct, my opinions can't have changed."

The remark bit deep into the magelet, crushing a small bit of her heart as she visiably flinched. He watched her from the other side of the small cavern, dropped sword now in hand once more as he waited for her reply. Swallowing Cinnamon opened her mouth, words spoken slowly but shaking like her limbs could have been if not folded against herself.

"I helped you stay free since you arrived in the city of Kirkwall. I taught you to read, to know someone without mistrust. I helped you find Hadrianna and kill her. We are friends, Fenris."

For a few moments it seemed like her words had had an effect on the elf as he held her gaze, no emotions on his face. Hope rose in Cinnamon but she dared not act on it, knowing that if she did he'd become mistrusting. Still she couldn't stop it flooding her eyes, watching as Fenris took a deep breath, preparing to reply. And a cold, dead feeling gripped her as he did, sinking her back down to where she had been and beyond.

"Impressive story. Did you come up with that, or did your mage kin help you? Pretend to kill you then trap you in here with me to sweet talk me into believing you. Priceless."

"Not all mages are the same Fenris! You can not paint everyone with the same brush as your monsters!"

"Ha! You make it sound like your kind is innocent, when you are just a hop, skip and jump away from becoming a monster yourself. Choice does not trump nature."

Tears prickled her eyes and flowed down her cheeks and Cinnamon let out a sob, covering her mouth as she lowered her eyes for a second. His words cut worse then any sword could, and worse, as the mage had no expected them. It was hard to keep insisting to herself that this was just the Fade, bring out the worse in him. Anger rushed in to fill the space where words had cut her, matched only by the hurt that followed.

"If no proof I give you will ever be enough, then I hope your freedom tastes sickly sweet. Because I gave mine up to save you, the only one I've ever loved. Tell me, how does that trump nature?"

She could see from the look in his eyes, the one that for a moment hid the one of hatred and mockery, that at last her words shocked him. But in her state the magelet didn't care, her hand reaching into the sidebag to grasp the gift Compassion gave her at the start. Anger made Cinnamon pulled it out, and without a thought throw it at him before collapsing against the wall, bending her head to silently cry.

It hit Fenris in the chest before rolling off him, hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. With a frown he bent down, grasping the roll of paper tightly in his metal-covered hand before bringing it up to his face. Some part of him wished to rip it and kill the mage; be done with this place. But another part, one that was apparently in contorl, glanced to the crying mage before back down at the paper. With the gentlest of hands he began to unravel it, pulling one end slowly down to read the script imprinted on it's body, the black ink illuminated by his blueish glow.

_" 'At Shartan's word, the sky grew black with arrows... At Our Lady's, ten thousand swords rang from their sheaths...' "_

From her place against the wall Cinnamon paused, lifting her head very gently to watch Fenris. His eyes were not on her, but on the page he held in front of him, lips moving slowly as he spoke in a hushed tone. Now she understood Compassion's gift, her meaningful intent. The spirit's gift was Cinnamon's, the one she'd given to Fenris the night she began to teach him to read. And gently the magelet wiped her face, lifting herself up against the wall as Fenris continued.

_" '...A great hymn rose over Valarian Fields gladly proclaiming: Those who had been slaves, were now free. Shartan 10:1, Dissonant Verse. Cannella Hawke."_

A frowned touched his face as he uttered the last words, ones not related to the canticle at all. The frown deepened as he glanced up towards her, watching the mage pull herself to her feet before glancing back down to the words. Something clicked in his mind at that point, a realisation that shattered any hold held upon him. The paper slipped from his hands and he let it fall, glancing up again at the mage. At Cannella Hawke. At...

"Cinnamon? It's you?"

Only a smile greeted his words but it was all the elf needed. In three steps he covered the space between them, wrapping the shaking mage in his embrace as he buried his head in her neck, hiding a shamed face. All the things he said, it was unlikely she'd forgive him. But when timid hands touched his shoulders, before envelopping him in her arms he knew she had.

And as he held her, the world began to fade, disappearing around them like it had done many times before to Cinnamon. But this time, even as she pulled away to watch it fall, she did not fall with it- Instead, as the presense of Compassion appeared at their side, to Hawke it seemed like it was all over. There was no one left to save. They could go home.

She was wrong.


	12. Chapter 11 and a half

_Title: Taste of Freedom (Chpt. 11.5)_  
><em>Game: Dragon Age 2<em>  
><em>Author: Blissy-Kills, aka Sessils<em>  
><em>Characterspairing: Anders, Varric, Fenris, the three wise spirits (together again) and Cinnamon Hawke_  
><em>Author's note: All characters belong to Bioware, except Cinnamon Hawke and my adaptations of the spirits. And once again Freddick, the unsuspecting cheesewheel. He is always watching. Enjoy, and sorry for the wait. Again. Again. Again. c:<em>

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><p>The absence of air tickling her skin was worse than its presence, and the feeling pushed Cinnamon into awareness. Instantly she wished she was back in her dreams, where it was blue sky of Kirkwall, not the emotionless and empty expanse of the Fade, that greeted her eyes. Because the sight of reality proved to the mage that she was wrong.<p>

The sight shifted as Cinnamon sat up, blue eyes sweeping to prove she was back at the starting point, back in her old clothes with their colourful sleeves. It was only the routine act that pushed the girl to her feet, not any sense of urgency even as the familiar tingle of ethereal magic spread over her scarred spine, informing her of their 'hosts' arrival and subsequent approach.

_"You did what many could not have even tried Cannella. We never doubted you."_

"And yet, I'm still here, in my second home."

Sure that it was Compassion that had spoke Cinnamon didn't turn around, instead continuing to stare at the floating islands in the distance. After a few more moments the noble apostate turned slowly, eyes showing her reluctance to continue on the uncertain conversation. She knew why she was still here.

"Where are my friends? I need to know if they are hurt or not."

It was Kindness that grinned at her, delicate fingers pointing past her shoulder to something behind. Turning again Cinnamon flinched as light flashed, blinding her eyes before fading just as quickly to reveal three slightly shaken figures. Grinning blissfully the mage took a few steps towards them, not bothering to restrain her relief as her companions took in their surroundings.

"You're... You're all alright."

A visible weight left Cinnamon's shoulders as she slumped slightly, an exhausted grin spreading across her already pale features. Varric managed a small chuckle as Anders reached out to pat her arm, so unsubtly providing her with a small boost of energy. Fenris just watched her with an unreadable expression, but any words he may have spoken were cut off by the Spirits.

_"Cannella..."_

Instantly the weight was back, pressing down on the magelet as she shut her eyes and turned. Upon opening them Hawke caught the look in not just Kindness's but Compassion's eyes too, a look that cut her up. It was Justice that took a step forward, earning a hiss and a gasp from behind her as he spoke.

_"Every action has a price."_

"Hawke, what does he mean?"

Blue eyes never left Justice's helmeted face; even as Varric's words reached her ears and her own, automatic reply choked itself out.

"When we first entered the Fade, the spirits saved me from my own demon. But they warned me of a price. One I'd have to pay in the end."

_"But you must understand... To remove Cannella from the Fade, to send her alone back to the Thedas, is simple. But three others, even with one being a mage, requires more. It requires a price, a sacrifice."_

Silence met the Spirit's words, the shock settling in the stomachs of the companions even as the words themselves settled in. Quietly Cinnamon turned her head to Kindness, then Compassion, then back to Justice, a faint smile tracing her lips as she spoke to them all.

"I guess you can't tell me what it is I must give up?"

"Wait Hawke, you can't be seriou-"

_"Not even we know what will be taken. We just know it can not be replaced."_

Wordlessly the magelet nodded, ignoring Fenris's outburst as she spared him a glance. The same look of disbelief was mirrored on all three faces, though Cinnamon was acutely aware of the pain on Fenris's as he watched her, looking ready to pounce if she made a move. It didn't stop the noble apostate as she turned back, facing Kindness even as the Spirit slowly stretch-out her hand.

"There's no point in seeing the day if you're the only one to see it."

Her words were a whisper, and they were the only warning of her next actions, for without another moment's hesitation Cinnamon reached out and grasped the extended hand, a faint, humourless smile painting her lips but missing her eyes.

"I accept."

"Cinnamon don't-"

Any words of rebuttal were cut off as light flashed, covering the noble apostate's eyes as everything was sharply cut off. The glow suddenly became sharp, pain piercing Cinnamon's skull with a precise tip until she wanted to scream. It tore through her mind, and it was only the cool numbness of unconsciousness that relieved the magelet, embracing her with the swift darkness of a loveless lover.

* * *

><p>Lights twinkled, real and gentle, shimmering higher in the night sky of Kirkwall. Nothing moved except for the rustle of grass as the breeze picked it up, the only sound frogs and other night creatures making their mark in the world.<p>

Something cold seeped through his clothes into his skin. With the faintest of groans Fenris began to stir, uttering a louder noise of discontent as the world rushed into his view. Rapidly he blinked, raising a hand to block out the moon and it's unwelcomed light. Above the stars blinked, or maybe it was Fenris as the elf once more rubbed his face, slowly pushing himself up as a faint memory nagging at the back of his mind. Something important, like a dream worth remembering, was begging to be heard. He began to push it aside as the sky stopped swirling and Fenris regained his balance.

It wasn't until another noise sounded off to his left though, and the elf glanced over to find Varric and Anders climbing to their feet, that it occurred to him what was missing. And then, it all came rushing back, every single unwelcome and welcome bit.

"Cinnamon?"

His voice was no more then a whisper, but it was enough to force Fenris up. To his feet he rose, hands scattered out as he tried to gain his balance fast while green eyes flew around.

"Cinnamon?!"

Now at the volume of a roar his words reminded the other two dazed companions, but they didn't matter-nothing mattered-until frantic green eyes found what they was searching for. A figure, lying on it's side some distance away with it's back to them, illuminated vaguely in murky silver light.

"No..."

_"Not even we know what will be taken. We just know it can not be replaced."_

The words of the blasted spirits came back to the elf, lurching him into motion as he began to half stumble, half run towards the figure. Without a doubt he knew it was Hawke, even without the light colouring her blue robes and small form clear. As he closed the gap Fenris could feel his heart hit his stomach and disintegrate, for the closer he got the more he realised the truth-Not a single part of Cinnamon moved.

_"We just know it can not be replaced."_

He skidded down beside her motionless body, hands feathering over her side before they mercilessly grabbed her, pulling the magelet into his lap even as the elf felt the other two companions arriving behind him. He cared little, reaching up instead to grasp the back of Cinnamon's head and hold her face close to his.

"No, I won't allow it. Cinnamon please, wake up, you promised me please..."

Nothing moved in the pale, peaceful face of his friend, not a breath nor a twitch. Her brown hair framing her face even as she lay, stock still, lids closed to hide kind eyes. For a second it didn't seem real to Fenris as his shaking hands slowed their strokes of her face, resting on her cheek as reality sunk in. Varric's hand rested on his shoulder as Fenris let his head begin to droop slowly, eyes burning with tears that wouldn't come. His thoughts persisted even as the elf felt himself begin to slowly give up; If only he had stopped her, in the Fade, from accepting that offer. If he had been stronger...

If he hadn't been holding her so tight that her skin swelled red beneath his white knuckles, Fenris would have missed the slight tremour that ran through the girl. There was no missing the sharp intake of breath, loud in the echoing space as life flooded Cinnamon again, causing the girl to arch as her spirit once more oozed back into her solid form.

"Cannella?"

His voice soft with hope, Fenris loosed his grip a bit, ignoring Anders and Varric as they leaned over his shoulder to watch the mage suck in air, her body shaking as she breathed out with a hiss of pain. Her eyelids fluttered and slowly opened, blinking before focusing on the one thing that occupied her vision..

"Fenris? You're... Ok?"

A mix between a laugh and a sob left Fenris as he nodded mutely, staring into her eyes even as shock began to wash over him at what he saw. So amazed by the sight of him alive Cinnamon has not realised that something... Something wasn't right.

_"... It can not be replaced."_

Very slowly Cinnamon raised her left hand, the one not crushed again Fenris's chest, and brought it onto her line of vision. A ship on a rough sea stared back at her even in the damaged moonlight, painted by the hand of a shipless captain. But what should have been there was not there, and slowly realisation trickled back into Hawke as she looked back Fenris with white eyes, black pupils washed out into a dulled grey.

"They traded my colours for life."


End file.
